A Winter Solstice
by azro.zee
Summary: Inheriting Mama's way of life had always been about dedicating her life to alchemy, in the form of a silver pocket watch. It wasn't supposed to include fighting immortal beings, and especially not one in the form of an awkward Ishvalan boy. [Fullmetal Alchemist AU, written for Soul Eater Resonance Bang 2k19]
1. Chapter 1

[A/N] : My first resbang ever! My partner is the sweet and talented aiilovh, who painted the beautiful piece as the cover of this story!

Big big big big thanks to my betas, sissy Bulan, Ash, chloe and zxanthe, for guiding me through the labyrinth that is the English language!

Thank you for grigoriwings family and mods who had organized this amazing event!

* * *

Chapter 1 : Death City Isn't A Proper Place To Make Friends

* * *

_"But Kamiko, honey, you can't do this!"_

These were the last words Papa spoke to Mama.

_"You had your chances, Spirit. And I have my decision."_

These were the last words Mama spoke to Papa.

_"I love you, darling… I love you… I love you…"_

They were the last words Mama spoke to her.

_"I love you too, Mama…"_

And they were the last words she spoke to Mama, with a horrible foreboding that they might not see each other again.

* * *

She closed the book with a why-bother-to-count-anymoreth disappointed growl. The black cat on her lap hissed at the disturbance and threw her a dirty look before continuing her nap.

As usual, no decent results.

"Oh, fuck me sideways…" she grumbled. Her cat meowed a sharp yowl that eerily sounded like a scolding mother. She ignored her. There were more frustrating things than a cat commenting on your language.

She had already lost count of how many weeks she'd spent in this particular corner of her huge library, trying to crack her latest finds in Mama's research document.

"Who exactly was the asshole that invented alchemical coding and then thought it was a great idea to use it in research?" she asked her cat, but of course the feline wouldn't answer; she was not an alchemist.

Mama was an astounding alchemist. Possibly the best to have ever been born in generations. Her state alchemist certificate was enough proof of her ability, but even other alchemists saw her as someone to aspire to. She had invented dozens of new alchemy techniques and theories in the thirty years of her life, and they had helped their country's alchemy to progress at least five decades faster than expected.

Mama was most known for her research in biology transmutation, but it wasn't a secret that she was also a lethal goddess on the front lines. She had the strange ability to 'sense souls' and do long distance transmutations. Her transmutations also sparked light green in the distinct shape of angel wings; a signature of hers. It was quite a sight to behold, hence why people called her the Angel of Death, and why the Führer granted her the name Grigori.

But _she_ knew Mama was even more amazing than she let on. _She _knew there were still hundreds of pages of Mama's unpublished and unfinished research scattered all around Amestris. She'd always had a hidden laboratory everywhere she'd traveled.

Oddly, despite her vast official publications of basic theories and common alchemy, Mama had never released anything about the secret of her own bizarre alchemy, which she called _alkahestry_, before her untimely death.

Of course, after Mama was gone, people started to hunt down the rest of her works like beggars searching a gold mine. The secrets of the Grigori Alchemist promised tremendous powers and unthinkable possibilities. It could be both a new light of hope for medical science as well as an ugly weapon of war.

Which was why it had to be _her_ who gathered and deciphered her research. It was only _her_ who knew both Mama's alchemy and alkahestry, and probably the only one who didn't want to take advantage of it.

"Sometimes I wonder if Mama sold her soul to Lucifer to make a code like this," she groaned to no one. The cat on her lap meowed as if answering her. "Oh, I'm sorry, Blair. I forgot as the queen of the underworld you only take crème as an offering, not souls," she snorted, refraining to roll her eyes. The feline let out a smug purr.

She must have gone mad if she thought she could understand a cat. But alchemy research tended to do that to people. Going mad, that is, not talking to a cat. That was mostly her.

She picked a new pen (the previous one was laying pitifully on the floor, snapped in half) and started scribbling again. There had to be a way. As Mama's only pupil, she must not forget about Mama's most important rule; _it's never magic, human brains just can't understand it yet._

Maka Albarn was a carbon copy of her Mama. People had told her many times that looking at her was eerily similar to looking at Kamiko Albarn. Both their looks and alchemy were exactly alike. From their sandy hair and their round faces, to their ability to sense souls and the green angel wing sparks they made. Even their characters were alike. Both were fierce, headstrong and forces to be reckoned with. They were so similar to the point where the Führer granted them the same title when Maka got her certification.

But Maka Albarn was also not a carbon copy of her Mama. She was more like a cheap knockoff, she supposed. She was not as strong as Mama nor as unnervingly intelligent. Instead of being born a prodigy like Mama, Maka had to work and study ten times harder.

But she was more than happy to do that, because Mama was her world.

Truthfully, her main reason to apply for the State Alchemist Program was to dedicate herself to Mama's world. To make sure her lifetime of work was not buried for eternity, and, more importantly, to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands and end up being weapons, if they ever did resurface. Because she wasn't naïve enough to believe that the military didn't want Mama's research for their own benefit, proven by how eager they were to encourage her deciphering Mama's research instead of starting her own.

And the rest of her reasons were definitely not to keep Papa from forgetting his former wife or to see him crawling with guilt every time he looked at her or heard her title. No.

"Maka-chan?"

Maka perked up at the creaking door. Her Xingese friend Tsubaki peeked from the crack, holding a tray of food and hot milk.

"You should rest and eat a little, Maka-chan. You won't hear the end of it from Myra if you catch something."

Maka smiled at the older woman. "I won't hear the end of it from you either, Tsubaki-chan."

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was one of her closest childhood friends. Because the Nakatsukasas were the same ethnicity as her Mama, she was the next best thing Maka had to study the eastern language and customs from. They often spoke to each other in Xingnese, like they were now.

Tsubaki gave her a frown, lifting the food closer, and Maka responded with a defeated look before nibbling her toast without passion. Her other hand was busy keeping Blair from trying to steal her milk, as the cat could end up spilling it all over her notes, considering how energetic she was when playing with food. Maka was aware that she needed food, after all. As Auntie Myra often said, she couldn't live only by telling herself she could photosynthesize.

"Any progress with the project?" Tsubaki asked gently.

As an answer, Maka dropped her head on the table and whimpered, huffing a stray strand of hair from her face. Tsubaki couldn't help but chuckle in sympathy.

Sometimes it was just so hard living up to Mama's legacy. Getting her hands on the documents alone wasn't enough to unlock the knowledge. Coding their research was an unspoken rule for any alchemist, and Mama was never half-hearted with her codes. Sometimes it was draining, borderline frustrating, to even just decipher it, let alone to continue the research.

Maka had already collected and completed much of Mama's lost research ten times faster than any other alchemist who ever tried. People showered her with compliments, assuming she was just as much a genius as her Mama was; a prodigy. But no. She was no prodigy. She was just luckier because she had been taught alchemy directly by Mama.

It was never easy. There were many hours full of depression and self-loathing between those accomplishments. Like now.

She was just Maka Albarn, a normal human, not the Angel of Death.

Tsubaki set the tray down and curiously inspected the documents Maka was working on. To her, it appeared as a very engaging novel about the adventure of a woman's journey to the east.

"What is this one about?"

"Apparently it's about developing prosthetic limbs. I mean, true, flesh and bone prosthetic limbs," Maka murmured, "That, or an extremely detailed way of gutting a sturgeon."

Tsubaki's laugh rang in the room filled with dangerously too many books. "I don't think Black Star will be very delighted to hear about the prospect of fleshy prosthetic limbs."

Maka snorted at the thought of her other childhood friend, who happened to be Tsubaki's husband. He also happened to be one of the best automail engineers this side of the country. "Limbs are supposed to be made of flesh and bone. Black Star can go stuff his ass with molten steel."

Tsubaki made no reaction towards Maka's language, too used to her friend spewing out un-ladylike comments, which would undoubtedly be met with ruder insults by her sailor-mouthed husband.

"And I still can't figure out this key part of the code! I must have missed something! Or used the wrong combinations!" Maka ranted. While Tsubaki was not, in fact, an alchemist, she was a wonderful listener. "There's something vaguely familiar about this document but I don't know what it is! I already tried everything but something's just not adding up!"

Blair was hissing again from Maka's volume and uncontrolled flailing. She jumped from Maka's lap to Tsubaki's, who started to stroke her fur gently.

"Now, Maka-chan, I always told you that your weakness is that you tend to draw conclusions before seeing the whole picture. And that looking at it from different perspective also helps most of the time."

Tsubaki patted Maka's hair with a smile. For the nth time Maka thought about how wonderful a mother Tsubaki would be, glancing at the still flat belly of the one-month pregnant woman (they had just found out three days before and Maka feared she would go deaf from Black Star's triumphant hoots and yells at the news). She practically was her mother figure since Maka lost her Mama ten years ago. Or more accurately, older sister figure, because the three of them had basically been raised by Black Star's adoptive mother Myra and her husband Sid.

"Maybe you're right. I've locked myself in this room for so long, I don't even know what day it is."

Tsubaki perked at her words. "Then finish your meal. I think Black Star would be up for a little sparring match if you agreed to take a breather."

Maka smiled. "Great."

* * *

Kid scowled from behind the wheel again, glaring daggers at his Lieutenant in the passenger seat beside him.

"This is the third time this month, Liz! Third!"

His Lieutenant ignored him to sulk. The cause of their argument was in the backseat; a broken sniper rifle held by the Lieutenant's younger sister, who toyed with it as if she was in a very exciting shooting game.

"That's because you bought me a cheap one, Kid! I told you I wanted those babes from the North!"

"I was under the impression that you'd actually use it to _shoot_ at your targets, Elizabeth! Not to _bash_ their skulls!"

"With all due respect, Sir, I bashed their skulls under your command!" Liz sassed back, growling at her superior.

Kid sighed, "The least you could do was to break it symmetrically."

Their banter was swallowed by Liz's younger sister's voice, who apparently was very engrossed in her imagination and was starting to yell _'Pew! Pew!'_ while pointing the rifle at random people outside. The magazine was empty, yes, but it undoubtedly would cause a ruckus if she did it for much longer.

"Patricia, put it back!"

The younger girl pouted, "But Kiiiiid, you never let me play with the long ones!"

"That's because they're not toys, Patty! People will get freaked out if you point that thing at them. And your pair of Berettas are enough for you!"

The real reason Kid did not allow the childish Sergeant to use long ranged weapons was because she had the attention span of a Chihuahua, and tended to miss 80% of her targets above the 200-yard mark. Her short-ranged shots, however, were the best in the whole East Province. Her agility and shooting speed were unparalleled in a close-ranged gunfight.

On the contrary, her big sister Elizabeth was known for her absurdly long-ranged shots and deadly accuracy. She could clear a moving target in a 800-yard radius without problem, making her one of the most lethal sniper in Amestris.

Many envied him, because he was still in his mid-twenties, already a Colonel as well as an accomplished State Alchemist, and had the talented Thompson Sisters under his command.

"I might as well get you that northern rifle you wanted so much. I can't afford any more errors during a mission."

Liz immediately brightened, "For real?! Ah, Kid, I love you!" she attempted to attack him with a hug, the car's tires screeching dangerously as Kid tried to pry her off of him.

"Liz! Driving!"

She let him go, to his great relief, but she was still grinning madly, chanting some sort of war song about guns and rifles with her sister. Kid smiled inwardly. In the end, he could never deny them anything.

They stopped at Barrett's Automails, the most famous automail shop in Gallows Hill.

Sid Barrett, the owner of the shop, suddenly appeared from nowhere, smiling his face-splitting grin. "Colonel! What can I help you with?"

He had two secret errands, but the guns must definitely come first if he didn't want to deal with any mad Thompson sisters.

"Repairs. And some maintenance," Kid gave him the rifle bag.

Sid raised an eyebrow, "Again?"

The Colonel sighed, "You know how they are." And after a too enthusiastic nudge from Liz, he added, "And we might want to see your new things."

The owner grinned with a wink. "Got it, Sir."

Before they could go further to the shop, Patty chimed in, "Where's Maka?"

Sid gave a shrug, "Last I saw her, she had built a nest in her library. Again. But Tsubaki might've succeeded in coaxing her out of her lair to spar with Black Star."

"Okay!" Not waiting for a reply, Patty trotted happily out the back of the shop, where she knew there was a large field the owner's son was often sparring in.

"Don't wander too far!" Kid shouted at her back. Sometimes he felt like a father with two very mischievous daughters instead of a Colonel with his subordinates.

Sighing for heavens knew how many times that day, he followed behind Sid and Liz to the depths of the shop. They stopped at a seemingly normal hall before Sid pulled a specific book from the bookshelf. With a creak, an opening suddenly appeared in the once ordinary floor. Sid jerked his head as a sign for them to climb down.

The place they arrived to was enormous. Every surface of it was coated with all kinds of weapons and firearms of any range and deadliness. This was the other side of the Barret Shop the Colonel was more acquainted with.

"Go on, Liz!" he gestured, met by a cheer from the older Thompson.

As an alchemist, Kid rarely used guns. He himself was a weapon. He mostly visited Sid's _other shop_ for Liz and Patty, or for arming his other chosen subordinates. Military issued guns wouldn't do for the majority of his plans, because every bullet was registered and recorded.

And that wouldn't be good for his personal agenda.

* * *

Maka drank her cold water with a grumble, watching Black Star spar with Patty. Sparring should be a recreational activity for her, but losing to Black Star three times in a row only irked her foul mood further.

"Miss Albarn." A calm but amused voice reached her ears.

Maka lifted her face, grinning at the two people who walked towards her from the direction of the shop, and answered with the same playful tone. "Colonel Morton, Sir."

"I thought it was you Black Star was supposed to be sparring with?"

The aforementioned automail engineer was yelling a greeting to him between punches and kicks. The Colonel replied with a small wave. Black Star's attention quickly turned back to Patty when she managed to land a rough blow to his left shoulder. Meanwhile, Maka was crushed into a suffocating hug by Patty's older sister before she could manage an unamused "eh…" at the Colonel.

Liz chuckled at her tone, "Cheer up, Maka, you'll rust all the automails with your sour look." Maka smiled slightly at her teasing. "Stuck again?"

She grimaced. She was happy all of her friends were so caring, from Tsubaki with her motherly hovering, Black Star with his loud and obnoxious way of expressing his concern, to Kid and his subordinate's will to drive a hundred miles just to check on her at least once a week.

But every time they asked about her progress, a cold sensation filled her chest as her brain began its self-loathing routine, again consumed by thoughts of not living up to Mama's legacy. The feeling always worsened when she saw their sympathetic smiles.

"Then maybe you could use my help?" Kid smiled, "I'm supposed to monitor your progress, after all."

Both Maka and Liz stared at him like he just proposed he'd quit being alchemist and take ballet lessons instead. Maka Albarn had a stubborn policy of never asking anyone for help, and Kristopher Ignatius Damian Morton had a strange policy of never letting himself in on other people's research.

People said he had too much of a holier-than-thou aura and was too arrogant to work with others, but Maka knew it was just that he already completed six projects and had another two he was still working on. He just didn't want to raise the count, because eight was a perfect number and his obsessive compulsive tendencies would definitely force him to stick to a research topic which he would definitely end up being the official contributor to.

"Are you seriously Kid Morton?" Maka said, holding herself from snorting.

Liz was not as successful in hiding her laugh, "What happened to the eight projects policy?"

Maka saw Kid's eye twitch; his general response when he was thinking about something but didn't want to voice it out. "Is it wrong to help a friend in need? And besides, I'm just gonna give her some input, not officially assist her."

"Are you really serious?" Maka asked again, still incredulous.

"Yes, why?"

"If you end up too invested in this, I am not dragging you out," Liz warned.

Maka mulled on her choice to take the help. Kid was one of the most brilliant alchemists she knew. He could undoubtedly give invaluable input to her project, considering that he was also one of the very few alchemists who Mama trusted enough to allow a peek at her alkahestry.

And her progress had been halted. Completely. For months.

On the other hand, Maka never let anyone in on her projects, let alone an alchemist. The curious and greedy nature of humans often blinded them, and the things Maka was working on were the goldmine equivalent of knowledge and power.

But Kid had always been an exception. He was the only male she never had problems receiving help from, and she knew he would never use Mama's research to his own advantage. Even though she knew he had _plans._

So she smiled back, ignoring Black Star's yells that she ran from their fights, and led them to her stuffy library. Liz trailed behind them, obviously not because she also wanted to—or could—help, but because she knew Albarn family's library had a corner full of fashion magazines (which Maka suspected were once possessions of Papa's incalculably _lady friends_) and another corner full of books on guns and weapons, courtesy of her Papa and Sid Barrett.

"So this is the part that always throws me into an endless loop," Maka pointed at a page in her notes, "I even tried to use both Helmont Theory and Flamel's Fifth Law but nothing ever makes sense in the end."

Kid hummed. He reached for her notes and started scribbling nonsense onto a blank paper. Maka waited restlessly for his input, checking diagrams and circles for clues of where she went wrong.

Finally, after an hour or two, Kid spoke, "Maka?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever use alkahestry as a base to decipher any of Mrs. Kamiko's documents before?"

"No?" Maka raised her eyebrow, "Mama was strict about never recording alkahestry research into writing."

"I thought so," Kid slid his own notes closer, "Here. You can't see it unless you think of each diagram as a turning point. The 'dragon' here doesn't mean 'transmutation process', but rather 'path'. And if you look at it as a whole, the composition is nowhere near any of the common theories, but rather resembling yours and Mrs. Kamiko's unique alchemy, or as she named it, alkahestry."

"Let me see!"

Maka's chair screeched when she hastily took the paper and eagerly read the notes. She noted that Kid's writing was so neat and organized compared to hers, making it really easy to understand. She nearly slapped herself for how stupid she had been. She was the only alchemist who had studied under Mama's guidance. The only alkahestrist alive, she dare say. How could she have never spot all these too familiar symbols?

Of course Tsubaki had been right. She tended to jump to conclusions before seeing the whole picture.

To think that the one working it out was another alchemist who'd never actually studied alkahestry.

"Oh my god… you're right…" she heard herself whispering, "It fits."

"So maybe we should try this again from the top using alkahestry? Even if I'm not so sure I could be of more help."

Maka waved him off, "Nonsense, Kid, if anyone could have any understanding of what I'm working on, it would be you! And I always appreciate your opinion!"

At that, Kid smiled genuinely.

They both worked until the sky turned red. They didn't even realize Patty had joined her sister and was reading Maka's old picture books aloud.

"It's done." Maka exhaled in a mix of triumph and exhaustion.

"This is clearly not what I think it was before," Kid said.

The completed document they had deciphered was neither research on prosthetic limbs nor a guide for gutting a sturgeon. It wasn't even an alchemy research.

It was a map.

"Wow, neat!" Liz suddenly jumped in. "Where do you think this leads to?"

"What I wanna know is why she'd take the trouble to double-code a map, and with alkahestry. I take it she never did that before?" Kid said.

Maka nodded in silence. Yes. Mama's documents always used common theories and standard laws. Any alchemist could decipher the code if they tried hard enough. But this document was different. Mama downright used the principles of alkahestry as a base to the code.

An anomaly.

Maka was Mama's first and last student, and the only alchemist alive who could use alkahestry. It was as if Mama purposely coded this particular document for Maka to decipher.

What for?

"The directions of the dragon path lead us here," Maka circled the town of Clamstein on the scribbled map, "From here, then to this town, here, here, and here. It's all pointing to this general area." Maka's pencil stopped in the middle of no man's land on the east side of Amestris.

"But that's the desert!" Liz said, raising her well-groomed eyebrow.

"No. That's not just the desert," Kid chided, hand on his chin. "There's a legend that in the middle of the sand sea, there are ruins of Xerxes, the ancient kingdom where it is said alchemy was first discovered. It's also said that all people of the kingdom, from the king to the littlest slave, disappeared within a night. Not a single soul remained."

"And that's why people now call it Death City," Maka finished absently, still wondering why Mama seemed to guide her to a giant ancient cemetery.

"D-d-d-death city?" Liz screeched. Ah, yes. Maka almost forgot the elder Thompson's aversion to the supernatural.

"I must go there," Maka heard herself say. "By myself."

"But Maka, it's in the middle of the desert! At least let us accompany you!" Kid protested.

"T-to the Death City? Are you crazy?" Liz hissed behind him and Patty chose that moment to jump into the discussion, chanting _'I wanna go too!'_ beside her sister. No one paid them any attention.

Somehow, Maka had already steeled her resolve. The map was obviously for her, and deep within her heart, she knew Mama wanted her to go by herself.

"No, Kid. You three have a duty to the military. Someone is bound to notice if you go with me," she reasoned. "And besides, like you said, it was the first time Mama ever used alkahestry as a code. I think it's her way of saying it has to be me."

Kid appeared lost in his thoughts, a frown carved deeply in his handsome face.

"I will be okay, Kid. You know I can take care of myself," she insisted.

Finally, Kid let out a heavy breath, "Fine. But if there's no news of you in four days, we'll follow you there!"

Maka beamed, already planning what to pack for the trip.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

Tsubaki was sitting on Maka's bed, watching her pack things into a medium-sized bag while singing off-key. The younger girl practically glowed after Kid's visit the day before, saying that she had a very promising clue on her current project.

Maka replied with a shake of her head, beaming, "You're a mother now, Tsubaki-chan. I can't drag you along like I used to."

Tsubaki grimaced. The thing about marrying and having a baby was that she couldn't follow Maka as closely anymore.

She had always accompanied Maka to whatever weird places all over the country her mission to collect all of Mrs. Kamiko's research took her; an old oath she made to her brother. But things had changed. Mrs. Kamiko was gone. Her brother was gone. There was no one who would demand for her to continue her old duty, and as Mr. Spirit had said to her on the day Black Star proposed, Maka could take care of herself splendidly, and she didn't have to follow Maka's every step anymore. She deserved to chase her own happiness and start her own life.

She knew Maka would say the exact same words if presented with the truth. Both Maka and Mrs. Kamiko would. They were kind-hearted like that.

"Where do you wanna go this time?" She spoke with the most casual tone she could muster, trying to distract herself from her thoughts.

Maka hummed, "Well, I don't know for sure, but the first stop will be the ruins of Xerxes."

What?!

"What?!"

"You heard me," Maka actually giggled, "Death City! Isn't that exciting?"

"B-but Maka-chan, isn't it like in the middle of the desert?!"

Tsubaki expected epic journeys to a weird part of the country, yes, but not this.

Before Maka could answer, however, the door slammed open revealing a very distraught Spirit Albarn panting heavily inside. "Darling, no! You can't go!"

In an instant, Maka's expression turned sour. "I can go wherever I want, Papa!"

"But, dear, the desert! It's dangerous! The sun will burn you! And—and there's so many unfriendly things out there!"

"Are you seriously saying that with a straight face, after all this time?" Maka spat, "And news flash, I'm a _State Alchemist,_ Papa. I think I can handle a few_ unfriendly things_."

Tsubaki could hear Mr. Spirit's flinch. She knew Mr. Spirit did a poor job at parenting by leaving Maka in the Barrett family's care and choosing his _ladies'_ company instead. The most parental thing he'd done was to pop up once in a while, annoying her and gushing all over her as if she was five. But Tsubaki also knew he never wholly approved of Maka being an alchemist, let alone entering the State Alchemist program. Unfortunately for him, there was no one more stubborn than Maka Albarn with a goal set before her.

"You don't have to do this… This wasn't what Mama wanted you to do, darling… She would never—"

Now it was Tsubaki's turn to flinch. Mr. Spirit had pushed the wrong button.

"Well, maybe I could hear it directly from her if you didn't make her leave with all your disgusting affairs!" Maka thundered, "Maybe she'd still be here! Alive! Keeping me home instead of wandering all over the country to scratch the dirt for her mementos!" With that, she snatched her bag and stormed out of the room with a sniffle.

"Maka-chan! Maka-chan, wait!"

Tsubaki wanted to go after her, but was held by the elder Albarn. Her protest died in her throat when she saw the eyes of a broken-hearted man.

* * *

Maka wiped her eyes yet again.

She had managed to not shed any tears during the train trip. But now, being alone at the edge of the world, where the green grass met the sparkly sand, she could finally let her tears spill.

The atmosphere was perfect for angsting. There was comforting silence all around her, broken only by the sound of her horse's hooves. She somehow felt like a terrible burden she hadn't known she'd been shouldering was lifted from her shoulders, replaced by the gentle but painful memory of her Mama. She felt airy. Light. And everything around her was surreal. The memory of Mama made the dragon paths under the sand flowing more solidly, as if the earthen river of energy also wanted to help her reliving Mama's gentle words in her alkahestry lessons.

The moon was hanging high in the starry sky, a blissfully cool breeze in place of the blazing sun expected from a desert. Orion was still bright near the eastern horizon, guiding her straight to the Death City. It was oddly calming and sad to see the Milky Way flowing above her head. Mama had taught her astronomy as much as alchemy, since stargazing was one of Mama's hobbies. She smiled wearily to the moon. Going alone hadn't been such a bad idea, after all.

Actually, she was not that alone. There were suspicious meows coming from her bag. With a frown, she unzipped the bag and a tiny head full of black fur popped out.

"Blair?! What are you doing here?!"

Apparently she had been too distracted by her thoughts and the dragon path to feel the animal soul inside her bag. The cat must have jumped into it when she was yelling at her Papa.

This was a pleasant and calming surprise, however, to know she was not entirely alone. She snuggled Blair closer to her heart as the cat purred contentedly.

"When the heat comes, I am not hearing any of your complaints."

* * *

The desert was so fucking hot.

Okay, that was obvious, but still, it wouldn't stop her from trying to pick a fight with the sun. If only that dumb celestial body would get down here so she could punch it, the coward.

Blair seemed to agree with her, growling at the source of the heat from inside her bag. She was luckier than Maka, because Maka didn't have anything to shade herself beside the hood of her coat.

She could already see the ruins, but didn't have the heart to urge her horse faster. The poor animal was probably feeling fifty times as bad as her. Besides, they had to conserve their energy.

But as Mama often said, miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it. All of a sudden, the ruins got rapidly bigger and nearer. And within half of an hour, her horse stepped onto Death City's outermost stone.

The ruins were unspeakably amazing. There were tons of stories carved silently on every piece of rubble and wrecked wall. The architecture spoke of a very advanced civilization. Well, she'd only find out about it later, because she didn't waste any time to sightsee. Her first priority was to find something she could transmute into water. It wasn't an easy task, however, because the city was, of course, dead.

Before the last ounce of her energy left her, a miracle presented itself in the form of a large ancient stone fountain full of fresh water. Wasting no time, she got off her horse and sprinted to it with newfound strength, drinking the water greedily.

Forget the Philosopher's Stone, water _was_ the most phenomenal and powerful substance on the planet.

Blair outright jumped in the water, swimming happily. Not even her horse waited for permission to dunk his head in the fountain. Luckily for her she remembered to refill all of her bottles before they polluted the water.

She then joined her companions to soak. Best decision ever. It was blissful.

At some point she could feel Blair walking away. The ever curious cat might be exploring the area, searching for something amusing to entertain herself. Maka wasn't worried. She could just tap her soul perception open and find the creature with ease any time she wanted.

But now, bath first.

The sky was starting to transition to purple when she got fully dressed again. She was absently thinking about searching for Blair when she felt a cold edge of a blade tickling her neck.

Perfect timing, Mr. Blade Holder, just as she was about to activate her perception.

Well, who could blame her for not keeping her radar up at all time? She was so tired and this was Death City. No one was supposed to live here.

Apparently she had been wrong.

But one thing she was certain of, whatever Mama had left for her, it definitely wasn't this.

"Who are you?"

The voice was deep and rich, definitely a man's, with a harsh edge and a rasp as if it had not been used for a long time.

If she could just distract this guy for a second, she might get a chance to escape. The downside of bathing was that she tended to peel off her transmutation gloves first and slip them on again last, so now she couldn't immediately do anything to cause a distraction without having her throat cut first.

Of course, miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it. A blob of black bolted from somewhere and perched on a broken pillar beside them, hissing. Both the guy and Maka involuntarily whipped their heads to that direction, but Maka had been quicker to respond.

In a swift fluid motion, Maka ducked under the guy's blade and jumped forward, creating a nice three-meter distance between them. She turned in an instant, both gloves already on her hands. The hissing black blob dashed to her and growled beside her foot. Now that her radar was fully in combat mode, she could sense it was Blair.

However, Blair couldn't keep her attention for long. Her assailant was far more intriguing.

One, the man in front of her had a white mess of hair that stuck in all directions, a tan complexion and a pair of piercing deep red eyes; absolutely an Ishvalan. About her age, give or take a few years.

Two, he strangely was as shocked as she was.

Three, the blade that had been pushing on her neck a few moments before wasn't any common blade. It was wide, with an ominous color of red and black, but the most impossible thing about it was that it was attached to the boy's right arm. It was definitely not automail, because there was no clear line between flesh and steel. Instead, where arm became blade, there was a texture of alchemical transmutation.

And four, she had to double-check on her Soul Perception because _he had_ _two souls._

She didn't have the time to think any further before the guy started to speak with shock and uncertainty in his voice, "Mrs… Kamiko?"

Maka's eyes widened, "You know my Mama?"

They certainly enjoyed outshocking each other, apparently. It was the Ishvalan guy's turn to be taken aback. He tentatively dropped his fighting stance and lowered his blade arm. "You're not her?"

"I just said she was my Mama," Maka replied with a flat tone, warily lowering her own hand.

"Oh." His walls seemed to crumble all of a sudden, his eyes leaving her face as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. The absence of his previous guardedness made a shocking change in him. He was no longer fierce now that he had stopped snarling with those unnervingly sharp teeth. Suddenly he looked awkward and introverted.

With a spark of green light, his right arm turned into bone and flesh, to Maka's eternal surprise. The boy himself didn't seem affected at all, as if the thing he just did was as trivial as zipping up his jacket or lowering his hood.

His aggression had been replaced with wariness and silence. He kept stealing glances at Maka as if unsure what to say or do, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and shifting his weight every other second. Maka wondered if he didn't know how to handle normal communication. Fortunately for him, she decided to take the first move.

"Who are you? And how did you know my Mama?"

He stole one more glance before mumbling, "…Soul."

Maka unconsciously took a step towards him. "Sorry?"

"Uh, my name," he said, still in that raspy, tentative voice, "It's… Soul."

"Okay. Soul." Maka nodded, and she might be imagining that his eyes lit up when she said his name. "Who are you and how did you know my Mama?"

Instead of answering her question, the boy, Soul, gave her a very strange look. "So you're… Maka?"

Maka's eyes widened yet again. This guy really liked to surprise her, it seemed. "Wha—how do you know my name?_ Who are you?!_" As it tended to do when confused or surprised, her voice raised to a yell.

Soul's posture stiffened and his expression became uncomfortable. The guarded look he wore before appeared once more. He held her eyes as his voice dropped, "I was one of your mother's test subjects."

She couldn't help the shout, "What?!"

* * *

It was a boring day, like every other day, when he lazily napped beside Wes's grave.

The grave was located in the heart of the oasis, beneath an old tree, in a place that might have been some kind of park when the city was still civilized. Hard to think he was in the middle of a desert when he napped there.

The first stars and constellations already presented themselves in the rapidly darkening sky. It reminded him of how much the brothers used to stargaze. He thought of how they earned their names as Canis Major, which Wes had gotten his name from, was starting to appear.

His peace was only interrupted by occasional snide remarks from the Little Demon inside his brain. He ignored the Demon quite easily, having mastered The Art of Not Giving a Fuck since he was sixteen.

Since Wes had died.

He rolled onto his stomach, peeking at the marble gravestone with 'Wezen' carved roughly on it. It was a peaceful dusk with nothing particularly interesting about it. This was when he missed Wes the most. His big brother had the uncanny ability to piss him off while somehow entertaining him at the same time.

But miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it. It was then a bolt of black suddenly jumped into a faraway bush. He jolted upright in an instant, arm transmuting into a blade. Having lived in these ruins without any human contact whatsoever had heightened all of his senses. His ears twitched as he listened intently, eyes focused on the bush, anticipating movement. Then, the last thing he was expecting leapt out of the foliage.

It was a cat.

He scowled as his blade transmuted back to flesh. Damn cat. Wes would certainly be laughing his ass off inside his grave if he knew his grumpy baby brother had been startled by a cat. The creature yawned cutely, not a bit bothered by the glare directed at it.

But then he started to realize. He had lived in this place for years and could recite the name of every animal in there and even tell how many each species was. There were definitely no black cats. This cat had somehow managed to find its way to the ruins in the middle of a desert by itself.

Was it really by itself?

Pursing his lips, he started to finecomb the dead city. He had an uncomfortable gut feeling he was no longer alone.

His heightened senses pulled him west. So they were from Amestris, huh? Not a very happy thought, because Amestris was what had caused him and his brother to be left alone in this god forsaken place to begin with. But it could be a happy thought, he supposed, because if the intruder happened to be a military soldier, things would get interesting.

There they were. In the west hall fountain. His right hand transmuting before he even thought about it; in the next second, it was already on the intruder's throat.

"Who are you?"

His captive didn't give an answer. Before he could interrogate them further, the corner of his eye caught the former bolt of black fur, momentarily distracting him. The person his blade had been confining suddenly ducked, escaped his grasp, and dashed forward with impressive fluidity.

When the intruder turned back to him, however, there were things far more intriguing about them.

One, she was a girl. A very tiny girl with very precise combat movement.

Two, she appeared just as shocked as he was.

Three, she had a very familiar face. A face that brought back all the years of suffering, warm motherly hugs, starry night skies, pain in his chest, and Wes's affectionate voice. But there were too many unfamiliar things about her for her to be the one he thought she was. Her eyes were green, not inky black, for one. And the person he was thinking about definitely wouldn't have gotten younger in the past twelve years.

But still, he had seen many weird things, so there was no harm in making sure, "Mrs… Kamiko?"

The girl's eyes widened in shock at the name. "You know my Mama?"

What?

"You're not her?"

"I just said she was my Mama."

He let out a little 'oh' as his blade transmuted back, eyes shifting away from the girl's face.

The girl. Whom he mostly knew who she was.

His mind flew to Mrs. Kamiko's words as she took him and Wes to the top of the lab's tower.

_"I think you two would be great friends with my Maka."_

She was _the little faceless girl._ Weird to finally put a face on a name he'd only heard of for so long.

"Who are you? And how did you know my Mama?"

The girl's—Maka's—voice jolted him out of his reminiscence. His brain suddenly blanked at what to do or say. His social skills seemed to have crumbled fantastically over the years. Well, not that he was a very social person to begin with.

Avoiding the other question, he replied with the nickname Wes gave him instead. "…Soul."

"Sorry?"

Of course. The word didn't exactly sound like a name. Stupid Wes.

"Uh, my name. It's… Soul."

It felt weird even on his own tongue. Yeah, he supposed five years without hearing their own name would do that to people.

"Okay, Soul," the girl—Maka—nodded, saying his name firmly. He kinda liked how it sounded in her voice. "Who are you and how did you know my Mama?"

Again, he dodged the question, "So, you're… Maka?"

Oh, saying her name felt nicer than hearing his own, actually.

"Wha—how do you know my name?_ Who are you?!_" Maka replied with a guarded shout. Woah, she was as fierce as her mother, if not more.

His past life was flashing before his eyes, bringing back in surprising accuracy, Mrs. Kamiko's strict instructions to forget everything, to keep what happened a secret and _just hide_. So, because he was a very wise person with splendid decision-making skills, he chose to tell the truth.

"I was one of your mother's test subjects."

Predictably, Maka's eyes went wider as she shrieked, "What?!"

Inside his brain, the Little Demon retorted, '_Yeah, Soul, What?'_

* * *

"What's your game, Kid?"

Liz Thompson stared at her superior with a serious look. The Colonel was calmly sipping his beloved tea instead of completing his assignments.

"What are you talking about?"

"Cut the bullshit! I didn't say anything back on Gallows Hill, but that doesn't mean I don't know!" Liz fumed, slamming her hands on Kid's desk. Luckily there was no one in the office to witness their argument. "You conveniently helped Maka with deciphering her codes despite _never_ as much as peeking at other alchemists' research before, and then you sent her to that dreadful place without any back-up! You didn't fight against her decision hard enough! Hell, you don't even look worried about her right now!"

Liz couldn't help her outrage. Maka was one of her very few female friends and she always had this huge protective instinct towards her, much like what she felt for Patty. She was an older sister for a reason, dammit. How Kid could calmly drink his stupid hot leaf juice while Maka was probably suffering from dehydration in the middle of satan's armpit was beyond her.

"Relax, Elizabeth."

Liz hissed, "Don't 'Elizabeth' me! Answer my question!"

Kid set down his cup and said, "It was necessary."

"For what?!"

He lifted his face and looked right into her eyes. Liz hated herself for noticing how his golden irises seemed to glow beautifully in the evening light. She knew Kid would never use his stupid pretty eyes to charm her on purpose, and it was entirely her own fault for finding them so mesmerizing, but that didn't mean she could let herself to be captivated! She was supposed to be angry, goddammit! This was a serious problem!

"For my plan," he answered in a low voice, interrupting her inner turmoil. "I found out that my enemy might have some connections to Mrs. Kamiko's experiments. Finding her other documents might lead me closer to them. And there's no alchemist who could do this more efficiently than Maka. But you have to believe me, Elizabeth, that I would never want to cause Maka any harm. You know I see her as my own sister. You also know she would go through the desert without problem, she was no idiot. And I was being honest when I said we'll follow her there if she doesn't report to us immediately."

Liz's anger drained slightly at his answer, but she still refused to drop her sour look. She sulkily looked away and chose to correct one of his statements, "_Our_ enemy," she grumbled, "They're mine and Patty's enemy too."

Kid smiled at her words, "Thank you."

"But I still blame you for sending Maka alone! Your reasons don't make it entirely okay!" she shouted but felt heat rising to her cheeks, entirely blaming Kid's dumb smile. "Besides, what would Mr. Stein say? I certainly won't help you if he finds out."

The thought of his and Maka's alchemy teacher seemed to crumble Kid's walls, indicated by how the teacup he was holding rattled dangerously on its plate and how beads of cold sweat started forming on his pretty face.

"He… He would kill me…" Kid whimpered pitifully to his desk, traces of the pretty boy from previously having vanished, and been replaced by a very distraught-looking ball of anxiety. "He probably will dissect me and make me more asymmetrical than ever! And I can't even blame him for that! I'm trash… A disgrace! An abomination!"

Liz sighed, at least the atmosphere was back to normal.

* * *

A couple hundred miles from the Eastern Headquarters where Colonel Morton wailed to his Lieutenant, Maka Albarn was shrieking at a certain Ishvalan boy.

"What?!"

When her brain had fully processed his previous words, Maka started trembling with anger. How dare he! The cruel idea of Mama using humans as test subjects! Unbelievable! Who did he think he was? What right had he to accuse her Mama of that horrible act?

Maka stewed in her ill thoughts of the Ishvalan boy, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had obviously recognized Mama's likeness on her face and knew her by name. Kamiko Albarn was an honorable woman with a respectable career and a noble personality, and Maka would die to defend that statement. Her left hand was back at fighting stance, while her right one was subtly reaching for one of her specially carved pins to prepare a long distance transmutation.

She would have been more intimidating if her stomach hadn't chosen that particular time to rumble, and the fact that it echoed very loudly in that empty place made it even worse.

Blair meowed.

Maka fought the urge to glare at her cat. The boy—Soul—coughed to disguise his snort. She wasn't as successful at stopping her hostility, nor it being replaced by the need to find a hole and bury herself, however. But she was Maka Albarn, and Maka Albarn wouldn't let go of her anger just because of an empty stomach or an alarming amount of embarrassment, so she was back to her sneering. She pretended the previous incident had never happened. She dearly hoped the Ishvalan boy would do the same.

Unbeknownst to her, her antics had helped the boy to clear his own thoughts. He hid a grin and offered awkwardly, "Uh… I can offer you a meal?" The end of his sentence climbed up a bit, shaping it into a question.

Maka cursed her back-stabbing stomach and mulled her options. Her traitorous belly complained again. She sighed inwardly; she knew anger always got the best of her when she was hungry. Fortunately, the rational part of her brain made an appearance by proposing the thought that she might get the boy's full story _and then_ she could judge him in peace afterwards. She could think better when she was full anyway, and if the boy tried to do anything funny, her transmutation gloves were ready to strike anytime. So, after grumbling at her own stomach, she nodded begrudgingly, and the boy—Soul—answered with a tentative gesture to follow him.

She hoped her perception was right when she felt no ill-intent from the strange Ishvalan boy.

* * *

Soul found out that the girl—Maka—was easily distracted once she felt relatively safe. He saw her curiously staring at everything, from the rubble of a broken altar, an ancient dragon statue, to a piece of a rusty iron bar on a window. She even forgot to keep being hostile at him a few times. She was as eager to learn everything as her mother, it seemed, even though Mrs. Kamiko was far better at hiding her curiosity. He would hear her gasp and she would blush furiously for letting herself be so captivated by a carving or relief; then she would continue her death-glaring. But her excitement visibly got bigger as they strolled through the heart of the oasis.

He led Maka to his home. Well, sort of home. The place was just the most decent part of a broken building at the east side of the oasis. It might have looked a little homier when Wes had been alive, but Soul didn't really pay that much attention to decoration and couldn't bring himself to care as long as he had a nice roofed spot to sleep and put his pitifully few belongings in.

Maka's horse wandered over the grassland beside the building, munching contentedly. The cat, however, was purring on Maka's chest, refusing to let go of her human's warmth.

"Make yourself at home. I'll just—go get the food." He gestured at a horizontally fallen square pillar in front of his room; the one he often used as some sort of bench.

Maka was so enchanted by the remnants of the building they were in, which Wes had said was supposed to be an ancient temple of a sort, but as always, she shot him that dark look when she remembered her own supposed anger, even though Soul wasn't so sure about the cause of it.

Soul started the fire, feeling Maka's eyes glaring holes on his back. He quickly heated up some smoked rabbit meat. Living in the desert meant the meat he hunted would go bad very quickly if not preserved properly. He begrudgingly thanked no one that among those hideous experiments he and his brother had endured, _they _actually gave them a harsh training on survival.

Their meal was silent and awkward, neither of them knew how to hold a proper conversation without including the previous topic, and ended up ruining their appetite.

But finally, after a long while of glaring at her clean plate, Maka spoke, "What did you mean when you said you were Mama's test subject?"

Soul's fifth piece of meat froze midway to his mouth. He gulped, setting down his plate, and glanced away uncomfortably. Why did he say that when he knew it'd come to this? Mrs. Kamiko had strictly forbid them to tell anyone, for god's sake!

_'Well, she's her daughter so who cares?'_

_'Yes, thank you,'_ Soul inwardly replied. How he managed to lace his inner voice with a humongous amount of sarcasm was a feat in itself.

He knew his Demon made him tend to break rules and ignore orders, but he had gotten much better at controlling it; or so he thought. His previous slip still caught him by surprise. He was confused by the overwhelming urge to tell this girl everything despite being aware of his complicated relationship with speaking. Not to mention this particular topic was definitely not his favorite thing to discuss.

He knew he shouldn't. He had already ruined everything by blabbing his secret the moment she asked him.

_'Yeah, yeah, no use regretting it now.'_

Soul mentally growled at the Demon, but he was right.

His promise to Mrs. Kamiko had been broken.

And he couldn't find in him any guilt.

_'Just say it.'_

Maybe it was just the tiny bit of jealousy he still felt at _the little faceless girl_, the irrational need to prove that he also had some kind of bond with Mrs. Kamiko.

Or maybe it was just her. He supposed his lonely heart was slowly aching for any human interaction. Also, looking at Maka was eerily similar to looking at Mrs. Kamiko. Their painfully similar personalities made talking to her feel like talking to her mother.

He never realized that he missed _her_ as much as he missed Wes.

"Soul?"

Well, the water had been spilled, might as well get drenched.

He cleared his throat, absently rubbing the back of his neck, "Well… uh, where do I begin?"

"How about you tell me exactly what kind of research you were supposed to be a 'subject' of?" she said viciously, emphasizing that one word. Clearly she still didn't believe him.

"That is… complicated." His adam's apple bobbed as he gulped again. "Honestly I don't really understand half of it."

Maka huffed, "Then tell me the half which you understand."

Soul fought a scowl. Demanding and impatient, just like her mother.

"Your 'Mama' was the head alchemist in the military's Black Blood project. Basically, the Human Weapon experiment," he dropped the bomb flatly.

The girl choked, "The human what?!"

"Human Weapon. Y'know, injecting weird things into a human body and modifying it to be able to shift into a weapon?" he replied to her disbelieving look. Soul sighed. Maybe it was easier to show rather than tell. He wasn't as good as Wes when it came to words.

He raised his right arm in front of her face. Green lights sparked and the sound of transmutation echoed as his flesh turned into steel.

* * *

Maka gasped at a very metallic arm in front of her.

She had seen it once, yes, but it didn't prevent the shock from freezing her. Other things like inhumane research and illegal activities scattered from her mind and were immediately replaced by the sheer impossibility of Soul's transmutation.

"What did you just do?!"

"Demonstrating the Human Weapon thing."

Yeah, asshole, she knew that, but that wasn't her question.

"That was just impossible!"

He didn't make any motion nor drew any circle. She considered the possibility that he might be using a Philosopher's Stone, but the sparks he made were light green, almost like hers, not red like what the Stone would produce. And there were so many things about it that would downright hurl alchemy's most important law of equivalent exchange out of the window.

"You didn't do any movements or draw any circles!" she continued her protests, "And it's all wrong! The masses and volumes are clearly not adding up and even if the human body contains some amount of iron it would never be enough to make a blade! You can't just go poof and conjure things from thin air like magic! Not to mention—"

Soul's sudden laugh cut her off mid-rant, blade-arm transmuted back to flesh. She stared at him dumbly, unwillingly noticing how his entire façade seemed to soften considerably with delight. Again, his mood shift made a shocking change in him.

Angry at herself for noticing dumb things about the boy she was supposed to be interrogating, she raised her voice in defense, "What's so funny?!"

He cackled a few times more before he managed to reply. "Sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it even messier. "But no, it's not magic. Human brains just can't understand it yet."

Maka's heart flipped backwards.

"Wh-where did you hear that phrase?"

That effectively shut him up and his previous guardedness was back.

He was a very weird guy. Maka didn't understand. Why did he keep steering the conversation into these things if it made him uncomfortable? And why did he look more anxious every time she asked if he had already implied he would answer her questions? Did he want to tell or keep it to himself? She scowled, hoping that he would make up his mind already. If not, then her transmutation circles were pleased to say they were ready to take the violent route.

But Soul finally decided to open up, apparently. Good for him. He let out a heavy breath as if readying himself. "Mrs. Kamiko often said that."

Maka, in turn, held her breath as Soul continued, "I met her when I was—seven? Eight? Well, around that time. We had already been held in that place for several years, trained to be soldiers."

"We?"

"My brother and I. And… countless other children. Ishvalan, mostly."

"Ah," Maka whispered darkly.

"We served as the lab's experiment subjects when we were not in training. Sometimes they—they just took our blood or something. But sometimes it was—" Soul paused, hands balling into fists, "It was a death call. Many kids got called and we'd never see them again."

Maka gulped. She was a State Alchemist. A 'Dog of the Military'. Corruption inside the military wasn't a strange concept to her. She knew the Ishval Civil War was a huge sinning ground, the cursed land of war crimes. But she had never heard of it being a mine of illegal experiments, where they took children and treated them like lab animals.

She shuddered. Honestly the chance of it being real was pretty high.

"Mrs. Kamiko was the new head of the project at the time. She led the other alchemists in cutting the children open and turning them into walking weapons. None of them survived besides me and my brother, of course. Mrs. Kamiko told us herself that Human Transmutation was just impossible. Well, it's possible, theoretically, but the _cost_ is always just too big. I still don't know what—_or who_—she sacrificed to make us."

She held her own hands to keep her actions in control. Even though Soul had said offensive and irrational things about Mama, she had to remind herself that she was hearing his side of the story. She had to hear everything before judging. But there was just too much to stomach.

"But when the experiment finally succeeded, she freed me and my brother, hid us when the military started searching for us, and finally said that we should go and hide out here to prevent other alchemists or the military from finding us."

"Why… did she do that?"

"You tell me," Soul leaned back on a cracked wall behind him, staring up at the stars through where the building's roof must have been forever ago. "She was a walking contradiction."

Maka pursed her lips, glaring at Soul's totally fleshy right arm. The things he said were strange, like an incomplete backstory with lots of plot holes. An alchemist wouldn't just free the result of their experiments, whether it was successful or not. More unlikely if it was a project assigned by the military. But it was too realistic to be a lie either. The illegal activities, even with how horrifying they sounded, were possible. Not to mention Soul had actually recognized her likeness to Mama and knew one of her infamous mottos (or, alternatively, had just said random things that coincidentally were an exact copy of what Mama used to say), indicating that he had met Mama in person.

No.

The irrational part of her brain, the one that loved Mama unconditionally and fiercely, started to deny everything.

Soul had never said that Mama was the one who personally did the human experiments, right? In fact, even if what he said about the experiments were true, there was a possibility he had fabricated the whole Mama-was-the-leader thing. He might just recognize Mama's face from a newspaper or something because of how famous she was. Him saying Mama's words was just a complete coincidence. Because Mama would never, ever, do something that immoral. No. Never.

"I don't believe you," she finally said, voice low and trembling. "Mama would never do anything like that."

Soul smiled. With just the light from the cackling fire in front of them, his smile looked kind of sad. "She was the one who personally transmuted me, Maka."

In an instant, her hand was gripping the front of his shirt, yanking him forward, "You shut your mouth! My Mama would never do anything like that! Her alchemy meant to help people! To heal! Not to destroy! Or—or to make weapons! I will prove you wrong even if I have to dig all of her labs up myself!"

Yes, she would prove it. She would make sure there was not even a single scribble of filthy human transmutation in Mama's documents.

She refused to believe her tears were flowing, scared to acknowledge the hideous foreboding sense that she might find evidence of it, buried in Mama's lab somewhere.

Soul, to her surprise, did not counter. He was still wearing that same smile, quietly nodded and slowly released her grip.

"I know you will."

Taken aback by his calmness, she stood up and yanked her hand away from him, "Thanks for the meal, but I have to go."

She walked away in anger and confusion, missing the way Soul's eyes stared at her back with unreadable emotion.

* * *

Soul peeked from behind his lashes.

Maka's cat was napping on his belly again.

"Ugh, go back to your owner, cat!" he grumbled to the creature, but she just yawned and let out a purr.

Maka had spent the last three days inspecting the ruins, searching for any alchemical knowledge. He supposed there was plenty of it in the city, considering its reputation as the birthplace of alchemy. He wasn't sure, though. Wes was the one with the gift of alchemy, not him.

It was strangely amusing to see Maka run all over the ruins, documenting reliefs or alchemy circles. He would find himself searching for her and watching her work for hours, sitting on nearby rubble with her black cat on his side.

Hard for him to imagine _the little faceless girl_ as Maka Albarn, even though he knew they were one and the same. Now that he had really met her, Mrs. Kamiko's words were starting to feel real.

_"She's impossible to not adore, you will see when you meet her!"_

Well, he was definitely _not_ on the 'adore' level, nor did he feel he would ever come to that point, but he was indeed drawn to her.

All of his old jealousy felt rather silly now.

Little by little, he got used to her presence, being more like his usual cool self instead of the awkward boy he had been that first night. Despite her hostility, he wanted to talk to her again. But Soul was never the best when it came to chit chat, so he ended up throwing sarcastic comments at her and mildly teasing her occasionally. Maka completely ignored him, of course (except for when her face reddened or when she gripped her notes a little too hard, maybe), but he didn't mind. She was amazing when concentrating fully on her job.

Just like Mrs. Kamiko.

But this evening he was napping beside Wes's grave again, silently talking about the last couple days' events to his brother; about Maka. He actually enjoyed her presence, however sour her expression was. Listening at her grumbling or silently reacting to his words was interesting. A very good change in his boring life.

He stared at Wes's gravestone, guiltily thinking of the idea he'd had the day before.

"Wes, will you forgive me if I leave you?"

* * *

Maka stood, packing up her things, and looked around.

No Blair.

She buried her face in her palm frustratedly before tapping her perception open. In a second, she found her pet's soul in the heart of the oasis, next to a familiar double-soul.

Sighing, she picked up her bag and started walking towards the direction of her cat's soul. "Really, Blair? Again?"

That smart cat was always aggressive to strangers, but she had been unusually clingy to the Ishvalan boy. It seemed like she had taken quite a liking to him, always next to him when Maka looked over her shoulder to glare at the boy.

Maka knew that boy followed her everywhere, watching her grumbling over Xerxesian alchemy circles with that strange look on his face, occasionally spitting out sarcastic comments. She found out that the boy could be very annoying when he lost that awkwardness he had displayed the first night she had arrived. He was always absent when the sky turned red, however, taking Blair with him to god knows where.

But more than anything, she was shocked with herself for not finding the strength to truly hate the guy despite her vast willingness to do so. Part of the reason was because she still couldn't find any malice in his_ main _soul. The other part was that she felt an odd enjoyment in his presence. Even with that bored look on his face or those rude teases he threw, she could feel that he was genuinely interested in what she was doing.

She ignored him, though, because she had far more important things to think about than a sarcastic jerk who spouted ridiculous nonsense about her Mama. She had to check every single thing to make sure she didn't miss anything Mama might have left for her. There was no doubt that Mama had hidden something big in the ancient rubble. Mama wouldn't have double-code the map if it hadn't been important.

But she had stayed in Death City for almost three days with no notable findings, and Kid would storm the desert along with his twin human guns if she stayed any longer. Well, not that she didn't have the time. She could always go back.

Blair was snuggling on Soul's stomach, happily purring. The boy himself was napping on the grass beside a marble stone. So this was where he went in the evenings, lazing around under a tree.

Now when she thought about it, he was always alone, despite saying that he fled here with his brother. Did he lie or—

Oh.

The marble was actually a gravestone.

"Hey…" Soul greeted, opening his eye and lazily sat up. Blair howled a protest for the disturbance. "Finished for the day?"

As usual, Maka ignored him and proceeded to scoop Blair to her chest, earning a sigh from the boy. When the corner of her eyes caught the name on the stone, she paused. Wezen. The name wasn't Ishvalan, but neither was 'Soul'.

However hard she tried to deny and ignore him, the ever curious part of her wanted to know more of his story.

How uncharacteristic of her.

"Was he your brother?"

"Huh?" Soul blinked, seemingly surprised because she actually talked to him after ignoring him for days. "Oh, uh, yeah. Wes."

Maybe it was because she had never bothered to properly see him before, but when she actually looked at the young Ishvalan man in broad daylight with his fingers slicking his bangs back, she could see his eyes were such an unusual shade of red, even for Ishvalan standard. The second he said his brother's name, those deep red eyes were clouded by a surprising amount of feeling.

Of loneliness.

Maka frowned to herself. Mama had always advised to be a decent human being first before being an alchemist. Even if she held a personal grudge towards this person, she shouldn't ignore that he was human. A person with feelings. She should know better about the pain of losing someone important. She had experienced it herself.

"I'm sorry…"

Again, he blinked disbelievingly at her, but then he broke into a weary grin, brushing off her condolences. "S'fine."

Maka suppressed her embarrassment by scowling and hugged Blair closer. "Well, I guess it's goodbye, then."

Soul's smile faltered slightly at her words, but not that she cared enough to notice it. "You wanna go?"

"Well, yeah, I can't stay here forever, can I? I already said I would prove you wrong, that my Mama was innocent and never took part in some crazy human experiment! I will show you that all research Mama did was never meant for harm!" Maka declared, puffing out a pompous huff.

She turned to take her horse, grumbling about a plan to locate Mama's next lab immediately when she got back to Gallows Hill. Her steps didn't even reach two digits yet when she heard his voice.

"Wait, Maka…"

She turned to see him casting his eyes down, left hand grazing the back of his neck. Somehow that awkward boy was back, replacing the sarcastic guy she had come to know these past three days. What an odd guy.

"What?"

"Let me… let me go with you."

Maka's eyes widened. Was he actually serious?

"What? Go with me?"

He nodded, "You want to collect Mrs. Kamiko's research, right? Well, I happen to know the location of a few of her labs—so maybe…"

She would never understand this guy. She had just declared she would go on a journey to prove _him_ wrong, and he wanted to help her do that?

His brother's gravestone caught her attention again. Oh. She had almost forgotten that Soul had lived in this place for years, alone, without any proper human contact. Suddenly she understood what emotion she had sensed in his soul when he had been watching her these past three days. It was contentment, probably. The joy to have a company.

She looked down at her notes where she had documented all of her inconsequential findings.

Mama's reason for leading her to Death City… had it been to meet him? To get him out of his solitude?

Blair meowed.

She stared at the Ishvalan boy who stood rather awkwardly in front of her. She was not sure why, but she believed that maybe his sarcastic façade was just how he dealt with people, hiding his inner thoughts behind taunts and teasing. When he got all nervous like this, he was actually being genuine.

Did she have the heart to leave this boy?

"Okay," Maka finally answered, hoping that her choice wouldn't cause any problems for her in the future.

Her future self might punch her for how wrong she was.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : Little Towns Have Their Own Charms

* * *

_"Go, Wezen, take care of your brother."_

These were the last words she spoke to Wes.

_"Be good, and always listen to your big brother."_

These were the last words she spoke to him.

_"I'm sorry, Soul, I'm sorry… I'm sorry for leaving you alone, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"_

They were the last words Wes spoke to him.

_"Shut up, Wes…"_

And they were the last words he spoke to Wes, with a silent tear on his cheek.

* * *

Maka hopped down from her horse in silence, ignoring Soul's extended hand.

Of course she was still angry at him, but the actual reason of her scowl was because she was extremely embarrassed.

She had already regretted her decision to bring the Ishvalan boy with her five minutes after voicing it, all because the unfortunate situation of only having one horse, forcing them to ride it together. Maka thought Black Star hooking her up with Second Lieutenant Ford was the most embarrassing thing in her life, but she certainly had been wrong. Horseback riding with Soul was worse. She didn't even realize the sun's unforgiving heat was cooking them into medium rare steaks.

Particularly because she couldn't help being too self-conscious. No, not because she wanted him to think she was a fragile princess being rescued by a knight in a shining armor while riding his horse together to the sunset, but because she had to make sure she looked intimidating and fierce; to remind him she could knock all of his stupid sharky teeth out of his jaw if he ever tried to do something. But unfortunately that was not an easy feat when she was a head shorter than him and was sitting in front of the boy like they were in a cheesy romance play.

Soul had been kind enough to not say anything despite his vast talent at snide remarks. But his silence only made the riding extremely awkward. Nobody could stop Blair from being chatty, however, and Maka had to stop thinking that her pet was teasing her. Cats don't tease.

Their first night on the Amestris border was pretty okay, she supposed, but for the love of the periodic table, she couldn't get a wink. All because she knew that Soul didn't sleep at all either. He just sat there in front of the fire, staring in the direction of Death City. Her mood got worse because the light feeling she got when she stepped into the desert was gone, replaced by this ominous feeling and heavy burden she knew too well. Even the dragon path felt farther. She blamed all of it on her new companion.

"Where exactly are these 'labs' you've spoken of?"

Soul started a little at her voice, as if not realizing that she had been awake the whole time. He reached for a tree branch around his legs and used it to prod the fire.

"Gritch, West City, Dublith, New Yolden, Rashville, those I certainly knew of. I've been there. Of course there are several in Ishval. Also, she implied once that she had one in Briggs."

"Hmm, I have been to the West City one but—wait, _Briggs_?!" Maka bolted upright, unintentionally knocking Blair off of her stomach. The cat yowled loudly, but Maka couldn't bring herself to care. "It's the most heavily fortressed city in this country!"

"So I've heard."

Maka brought her hand to her chin, thinking at miles per second. This was another anomaly of Mama's habits. Mama always built her labs far away from people, and more importantly, from the military. At least when she wasn't contributing to military-issued research, when she had no choice in deciding her work field.

Like in Ishval. But no, she wouldn't think about it. Not yet.

The thing was, Briggs was a very dangerous place, being the only city separating Amestris and Drachma, where heavy conflicts and rocket exchanges happened regularly. It was heavily guarded, because half of the town was owned by the military, resembling more of a fortress than a city. The only place that had a seemingly equal amount of defenses was the Central Headquarters where the Führer lived.

What could Mama possibly hide right under the military's nose?

But anyway, she couldn't risk going to a place that dangerous with a guy she barely knew. She just had to test him first, making sure he was not a hindrance.

"Rashville first."

"Huh?"

"That's the nearest one from here. I won't forgive you if you have lied to me or purposely drag me down. I also won't help you if you get yourself in trouble, so be prepared," Maka spoke with a tone of finality, dragging her coat to cover her head.

* * *

"Soul."

He was extinguishing the coals from last night's campfire when he turned to the voice. Maka was standing with arms crossed in front of her chest. She wore her usual pout, seemed as if considering something.

"What?"

"I said we'll go to Rashville, but first, we need new clothes for you," said Maka, eyeing him from head to toe. "I'll be the center of attention the second I step into a city with you by my side."

Maka's cat meowed from her shoulder, as if supporting her owner's point. He must have looked hideous for a cat to comment on his appearance.

Damn cat.

Okay, he didn't look so bad to be considered hideous, but there certainly was something that spoke 'neglected' about him, so Soul didn't object and just grunted.

Well, an effect of living in a dead city without any human contact, he supposed. His hair was untamable and desperately needed a cut, and since his brother and he fled to Death City when he was twelve, he didn't have anything to fit him except for Wes's old clothes. And honestly, Wes was at least ten centimeters shorter than him now that he'd had his growth spurt. So yeah, new clothes actually sounded good.

They arrived at the small town of Little Hook a day later. Soul tentatively stared everywhere, having forgotten what a lively town was supposed to look like. He was stunned by the amount of people, nervous to socialize. A snort came from Maka's direction, but when he turned to look at her she was still as sour as usual, saying nonchalantly that the tiny village was nothing compared to the cities they would visit in the near future. Soul refrained from gulping. It would be okay; they were just people. Humans. Just think of them as grumpy monkeys or something.

He tried to not imagine Wes' reactions at his humanly-induced hysteria too much. Or to look forward to tell him at the end of the day.

Maka said they needed to find a bank first, because, of course, they needed money to get the things they wanted. The downside of a civilized place. The building they arrived to was small and built from ancient bricks. Soul stared around curiously while Maka made her way to the bank people (Soul didn't know what to call them).

"Excuse me, I want to make a withdrawal from Maka Albarn's State Alchemist account," Maka said, sliding a paper and something silver to the bank woman.

"Are you the Alchemist herself, Miss?" the bank woman asked, inspecting the silver thing carefully.

The silver thing.

Oh.

_The Silver Pocket Watch._

"Yes," Maka answered.

Soul didn't realize his breathing was rapidly quickening at the sight of that thing.

Of course. Of course.

The people who did _those things _to him and Wes were State Alchemists. Mrs. Kamiko _was_ a State Alchemist. It wasn't strange for Maka to be a State Alchemist too.

She was a Dog of the Military.

How foolish of him to blindly follow this girl just because she was the daughter of Mrs. Kamiko. How foolish of him to crave human interaction, to crave company. How foolish. What if she took him with her because she just wanted to use him? To cut him open? To dissect the Human Weapon secret out of him?

Old fear and horror engulfed him painfully tight at a daunting speed. Beads of cold sweat ran down all over his body. He was numb. Completely numb. All he could hear was the loud _thump thump thump_ of his panicking heart and the faraway echo of a human transmutation circle being activated. He felt dizzy.

No.

No, no, no.

Years of numbing his heart against these fears only made the attack worse. The vivid recollections of his body strapped tight above an alchemy circle, of his chest being cut open, of that black liquid pouring into his body and burning his every cell were brutal.

Stupid. Fuck, he was stupid.

_'That's right, Soul! That's right! How foolish of you to follow this girl! She's like her mother, you say? You're right! She's just like her mother! She's no different from the woman who made you like this! After all, she's a State Alchemist, no?'_

This was a very bad time for his Little Demon to made an appearance.

_'Just run! Go! Or better yet, slash! Kill! Murder them all!'_

Soul had to force every fiber of his being to stop his own arm from turning into a blade. His frantic breath must have been audibly loud because Maka spun to face him and was approaching him with a worried look on her face.

"Soul?" she tried to reach him, but Soul was still numbly frigid. "Soul? What's wrong?"

When she did touch him, his senses came back in full force, feeling the heat from her hand spreading through his body like an uncontrollable forest fire.

Without thinking, he swatted her hand away roughly and dashed out of the building to wherever he thought was the safest place to hide.

* * *

Maka was very confused.

What was wrong with that guy? One time he was aggressive, then he was awkward, then annoyingly sarcastic, and now he ran off like a cat squirted with water? Heck, even Blair wouldn't look that upset when squirted with water.

It would have been funny if not for the look on his face. He was certainly frightened enough to not be okay.

"Here's your money, Miss Albarn." The teller casually slid a brown envelope and her Silver Pocket Watch as if she hadn't witnessed the previous occurrence.

Maka hastily put the money in her bag and was chaining her Pocket Watch back to her belt when she was suddenly slammed with understanding.

Oh. Her Silver Pocket Watch.

He was Ishvalan. The trauma of the Ishval Civil War was certainly enough to make any survivor tremble at the sight of the Watch; soldiers who destroyed their cities at the front lines were State Alchemists, after all. More importantly, if Soul _really _had experienced all those gruesome experiments that turned him into a Human Weapon like he said, his reaction would most likely be a couple times worse. The people who did that to him were undoubtedly State Alchemists.

Like her Mama.

Maka's heart flipped in discomfort.

A soul couldn't lie, she had undoubtedly sensed that Soul really was scared. Seeing his terrified eyes and his rigid posture just from the mere sight of her Watch was unnerving. It was the first proof that all of his story wasn't a lie.

She gulped uncomfortably.

No.

She had stubbornly convinced herself that Mama would never be a part of a research that amoral. She kept telling herself that it was just a sick lie he had fabricated to convince her to bring him along, to get closer to her and then steal all of Mama's documents. Everybody wanted those, after all.

She knew, deep inside her heart, that doing this was cruel and that she was being unfair to Soul. But Soul was a stranger, and Mama was her life.

Shaking her head furiously, Maka pushed her unpleasant thoughts aside, hurrying outside while taking the leather cover off of her pocket notebook. She transmuted it into a small case to hide the Watch and put it in her jacket's inner breast pocket to keep it out of sight. Blair was hot on her heels.

She could think of everything later. Finding him came first.

Unfortunately, because of her haste, Maka missed how the teller woman called the Central Headquarters' State Alchemist division right after she closed the door.

"Yes, I want to report that Miss Maka Albarn just made a withdrawal from Grigori Alchemist's Research Account at Morte Bank of Little Hook. Yes. Yes, Sir. No, she was with a young Ishvalan man. No. Yes, Sir."

* * *

She found him inside the remnants of a church, sitting on a rusty bench with his head between his knees and trembling hands covering his ears.

But the thing that shocked her the most was his soul. Or _souls_.

Paracelsus had said in his book that living beings consisted of three main principles, the Tria Prima;_ sulfur, mercury_ and _salt_. The 'soul' was represented by_ sulfur, _which was flammable.

His souls were scorching.

The dominant one of his souls, the _human_ part, the 'Soul' part, was trembling in chaos as if being burned alive. But the other soul, the artificial part, was dancing maniacally above the fire, as if his other half's misery was fueling its joy.

It was disturbing.

For a while, she could not bring her foot to step forward. Tears were falling down her face without her knowing, silently reacting to the chaos inside him.

"Please no… no…"

His shaky muttering was what brought her consciousness back. Trembling, she staggered to him.

"Soul…?"

Her voice shocked him upright. He pulled away from her extended hand, swatting it violently. "GO AWAY! JUST DIE, YOU MILITARY DOG! DIE!"

She flinched. Not because of the sheer volume of his voice nor how furious he was, but because of how much fear was in his tone despite his cruel words.

Maka didn't know what to do. As the minutes went on, Soul seemed not to be aware of where he was or even _who she was_, because he covered his ears again and started begging her when he caught sight of her face.

"Don't hurt me… Mrs. Kamiko… get me out of here… get us out of here…"

He continued to mumble the same thing over and over, with her standing there, completely frozen and speechless from witnessing his agonizing soul. This was the downside of sharpening her soul perception. She could feel what the soul was feeling.

How could she think that this boy wanted to take advantage of her? That he was up to no good? When all his soul screamed was that it just wanted to be saved?

Five minutes later, or maybe even five hours later, Soul had lost all of his energy, passing out silently, still crying in the same position.

Maka slumped beside this miserable practical stranger; this damaged boy. She didn't know what she was doing, but her hands reached out to bring his head to her chest and wiping his drenched face, now completely aware that she was also crying the whole time.

"I won't hurt you, idiot."

* * *

He squinted grumpily, realizing that he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

Birds were chirping cheerfully from somewhere, and part of him dearly wished for them to shut up. The other part was wondering why he felt so at peace despite the previous turmoil he had experienced. He didn't even hear his Demon.

It was then he became fully aware of his position and his surroundings. He was half sitting on a rusty church bench and half sleeping on someone's shoulder.

"Hey, Mr. Sleepyhead…"

Oh. He recognized that voice. But why did it sound a bit higher—and younger—than it should?

"Mrs… Kamiko…?"

He lifted his head to find she was staring down at him. Mrs. Kamiko smiled a little sadly, her green eyes glinting in the morning sunlight.

Wait a minute. Mrs. Kamiko's eyes were black.

His brain finally completed its buffering.

Yes. It was totally not Mrs. Kamiko.

Soul yelped and instinctively jumped back, slipping on his own foot and knocked himself on a nearby wall. He cursed while writhing pitifully, grabbing his head. A giggle echoed in the broken church when Soul found a hand extended to help him up.

"Are you okay?"

Maka Albarn leaned down in front of him. She was smiling, still waiting for him to take her hand. Soul tentatively did, feeling heat creeping up to his face.

"Yeah…"

Right after standing upright, the memories of last night slammed him like dozens of bricks. Especially the _fantastic_ part where he shouted at her to go die.

Fuck.

His previous thoughts about Maka seemed so laughable in the bright morning sunlight where she was smiling so comfortingly at him. Even after his madness, after hearing his cruel words, Maka was still here, making sure he was alright.

If she really wished to do something bad to him like those cursed State Alchemists, she would have had all the chances in the world when he had been sobbing pitifully with a wrecked mind. If she really thought he was a jerk like how she continuously did since he'd met her, she wouldn't take the trouble to find him and would just continue her journey in peace. He'd already told her the locations of the labs, after all. She didn't need him anymore. But no, she didn't do that. She chose to search for him, to hear his cries and comfort him.

He deserved the painful waves of guilt that were currently choking his breath.

"Wait, Maka—"

"Hmm?" she hummed in a conversational tone, turning to look at him. He didn't understand why she was still smiling so innocently. She should be lashing out at him right about now. Earlier evidence said that she had a short temper and the tendency to use violence when provoked.

"About…" he forbade his hands from fidgeting, hiding them inside his pockets. "About what I said last night, I'm sorry—I just… I'm—"

"It's okay," interrupted Maka, "You can tell me when you're ready."

He stared at her in disbelief. Was this the same girl that treated him like a pesky cat who spilled ink on her late Mama's only photo?

She gestured at what was once the church's entrance. "Let's find breakfast."

Yes, this was the same girl.

* * *

Soul was quiet.

Maka thought he was still not entirely out of it yet, stealing glances at him every other second to find him in a mild daze. He was also casting his eyes down, not curiously looking at everything like yesterday. He didn't even bother to keep up his stupid slouching, just sitting there and eating without sound. With that rigid posture, Maka could almost picture him as an ex-soldier.

It couldn't be helped, she supposed.

Seeing how uneasy he was, Maka started to rethink her opinion. Tsubaki's gentle advice of seeing everything from a different perspective was ringing in her ears. She had ignored Soul's perspective, closing her eyes and refused to think of him as a victim. Maybe Soul said all of that because he was also seeing the whole thing from _his_ point of view. Maybe there was something else, the bigger truth than what Soul had heard and experienced. Maybe Mama _did_ take part in that project, but with some noble reason no one knew of.

She exhaled heavily. It was possible.

But for now, she just wanted to forget everything and fall back to the time when she was hunting Mama's research only to keep it from evil hands.

_It's not the shape that matters, it's the soul that's important._

She just wanted to forget that Soul was a human weapon possibly created by her Mama.

She just wanted to see him as a person and know what kind of soul he had.

Maka distracted herself by looking for a shop to get Soul new clothes and a bookstore to purchase new travel notebooks (and maybe new theoretical books too, they never hurt). Maka had forgotten about this before, but she also needed a new trench coat now that she was back in Amestris. The previous one was thin and designed for desert travels, she absolutely needed a thicker one if she wanted to survive another night of Amestris's chilly wind, especially now that the summer had started to transform into autumn. They would most likely have to sleep outdoors a lot anyway, if she didn't want the military to know she was travelling with an escaped human weapon.

Also new boots. Yes. Heavy duty boots.

Blair did a good job of meowing at the direction of The Lantern, a quiet but interesting shop on a street corner. No other customers meant a little more calm for Soul. The shop had the Prima Materia symbol below its name, indicating that the owner was an alchemist (a regular alchemist, of course; there would've been the Amestrian Dragon in the center of the Prima Materia if they were a State Alchemist)[1]. It was one of those clothing shops where the customer chose a model and had the owner make it right after.

Maka had always admired those people who used alchemy for handiwork and arts, because arranging atoms to form a thing with high artistic value was hard. Like super fucking hard. Even more so when it involved detailing wearable things. Maka could make something simple like a shirt or a skirt, of course, but she would never forget Black Star's laughter when she attempted to decorate her coat by involving alchemical embroidery.

Maka noted that the shop was a little too sumptuous for a tiny village on the border of the country. She recognized a faint smell of gunpowder too, but she shook her head and let it slide. Firearm ownership wasn't a strange thing in Amestris, after all.

"Excuse me!"

"Over here, Miss!"

A tall woman with long black hair popped from behind the counter, greeting them. She approached them with a smile, tying up a leather apron at her back. Her glinting name tag spelled 'Jacqueline'. Maka stopped herself from raising her eyebrows. People usually wore leather aprons when blacksmithing or working in automail shops, not for making clothes. What an odd choice.

"What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could make some travelling clothes for him and a thick trench coat for me? And two pairs of combat boots?"

"Sure thing, Miss!" Miss Jacqueline reached for her measuring ribbon and started taking notes of her measurements while asking what exact kind of coat she wanted. Maka made sure to remind her that she wanted a Flamel insignia embroidered on the upper back; Mama and Professor Stein inked the insignia on their left chests in honor of their alchemy partnership, and she was both of their pupil.

Blair got excited when she saw little orange pumpkin bells in Miss Jacqueline's accessory display. She meowed at Maka and constantly pawed one of the little bells, demanding her attention.

"No, Blair, we're not here to buy you clothes." Blair responded with an annoyed meow, making her owner sigh. "Okay, okay, I'll get you a collar or something."

The cat let out a happy purr.

When it came to Soul's turn, he was certainly very uncomfortable being that close to other people. Maka understood the reason behind his behavior, yes, but it didn't stop her from being puzzled. He never did that when it came to her. From the very first night when she was still hostile, he had never flinched away from her. Well, except for the night before, when he clearly wasn't in his best state of mind. But thankfully, he genuinely lit up as he looked through Miss Jacqueline's collection of fashion magazines to find a model he liked.

"Okay, Miss! I have all of the measurements and the models! Now you only have to wait a bit while I arrange the circles!"

Maka nodded at the shop owner. She just found a cozy waiting spot and was about to sit when her eyes caught Soul absently huffing at his messy bangs.

"We also need to do something with your hair, really," Maka spoke, eyeing his unruly white hair. Its uneven cut suggested that he might have been cutting his hair with his own blade.

Soul was about to respond when Miss Jacqueline suddenly chimed in, "Then you can go to my girlfriend's place next door while you wait for your clothes, Mister. Kim's amazing with haircuts." Miss Jacqueline smiled rather bashfully, pointing to her right.

"Um… Okay?" Soul glanced at Maka unsurely, couldn't decide whether to go or not. Or maybe he was just hesitant at the prospect of talking to another human being. Clearly he was still not that good with socializing.

She refrained from rolling her eyes and pulled his hand to the next shop, where a pretty pink-haired girl was whistling cheerfully while manicuring her nails.

"Hello, Miss!"

The girl—Miss Kim—perked up at the chime of her shop's bell. She abandoned her previous activity when hearing their request, eyeing Soul up and down with an amused look, as if he was an interesting challenge. Soul was confused when Miss Kim asked how he wanted his haircut and Maka didn't trust her questionable tastes enough to give any advice (she didn't think Soul would love a buzz cut). But Miss Kim waved off their looks of worry airily.

"Don't worry, I know what's just right for him. It's gonna be perfect!"

After Maka assigned Blair to keep a nervous Soul company, she went out for some new travel notebooks and ink refills. She kept her book-browsing as short as possible, not wanting to leave the awkward Ishvalan boy for too long after his earlier attack. She was finished in under two hours—a rare feat—and got back right when Miss Kim announced she was done.

Miss Jacqueline really didn't lie about her girlfriend's talent. Miss Kim had completely transformed Soul from a pitiful mess of a homeless man into a cool pretty boy. (No, of course Maka wouldn't tell him that she found him pretty.)

He had his stubble shaved and his hair cut shorter, but still long enough to partly cover his eyes. Miss Kim had kept his hair's spikiness, but had arranged it into a cool kind of spiky mess instead of his former erratic mop style. She gave him a black headband too, for keeping his bangs from covering his eyes, she said, but Maka had a suspicion Miss Kim did that just for the sake of making him even prettier.

Accompanied by Miss Kim, they went back to Miss Jacqueline's shop for their new clothes. The alchemist's work was flawless. Maka was absolutely delighted with her new trench coat and (completely rad) combat boots. (Miss Jacqueline really had an awesome taste.) She also did something impressive in making Soul's outfit. The boy had stated that he disliked long coats, so he settled on dark low-rise jeans with a plain red shirt under a thick black leather jacket. Simple and durable, but looked nice on him.

"It suits you."

Soul blinked twice in bemusement, but then he gave her a toothy grin. "Thanks."

After choosing a pair of sunglasses to hide Soul's red eyes, they said goodbye to the couple and started discussing the plan on getting to Rashville.

Blair led their way with her tail swaying pompously, her new pumpkin bell collar chiming merrily on her neck.

* * *

Maka had changed and he didn't know what to do about it.

If there was something good coming from his previous embarrassing episode, it was that Maka had been acting considerably warmer towards him.

They were on their way to Rashville when Soul involuntarily squeaked his nervousness at the prospect of seeing more humans all at once. To his eternal surprise, Maka just soothingly assured him that she would be there for him as emotional support. That made him look away in embarrassment, completely missing the way Maka shot him an amused smile.

Not to mention her behavior towards him in Little Hook.

She was patient. Well, more patient than usual, when waiting for him to choose his new clothes (he guiltily admitted he was quite enjoying the choosing for models part, those things in Jacqueline's collection were pretty cool).

She also didn't mention anything about his previous attack, almost as if she was sensing that he was still too uncomfortable to speak about it. The girl was no longer demanding and bossy, and she was starting to look at him in the eye when she spoke to him, eagerly explaining the advances in technology he'd missed during his years in the desert.

It was nice, but he really didn't know how to respond to it. There was no Wes he could ask for advice either.

"Soul, what do you want?"

"Huh?"

Maka was standing in front of a sandwich stand, pointing at the menu.

"Anything," he said after thinking that he had no idea what those complicated things on the menu were; he knew about sandwiches only because Mrs. Kamiko made them once or twice for him and his brother. Well, not that he would protest anything Maka decided on, he would inhale anything classified as food.

"Okay then, two turkey and bacon sandwiches with fries on the side, also two orange juices," she spoke to the seller. Blair meowed something at her owner and Maka rolled her eyes. "And one with raw tuna, please."

Soon they were holding their sandwiches and fried potatoes, and Soul thought he reached some kind of enlightenment at his first bite. If such delicacies exist, then god must too.

Blair had already devoured all of her tuna sandwich and was eyeing her owner's, when Maka suddenly shouted and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh! I forgot to call them!" Her eyes were round and she looked as if she wanted to punch herself.

"Who?"

"Kid!" she shouted, running to the nearest phone box after shoving her food into his hands.

Soul quirked his eyebrow. Kid? Did Maka already have a kid? She looked too young to be a mother, but what did he know about marriageable age and motherhood anyway? He grew up in a lab before burying himself in the middle of a desert.

He waited uncomfortably for her on the nearest bench while she made the call. The thought of Maka already having a family who needed her was bugging him. If she really had a kid waiting for her, then shouldn't she be home, taking care of them and loving them? He knew firsthand how important motherly love was for a child.

Maybe—maybe Maka was not used to travelling like this. Maybe her original plan was to go straight home after visiting Death City. Maybe it was only because of his words that she decided to take this journey, leaving her family at home just to prove her mother was innocent.

Just for fighting a losing battle.

He felt more and more guilty by the second at the thought of tearing the girl from her family. What had he done? Not only did he leave the only family he had left in the forlorn silence of Death City, but he'd also torn other people's? He might puke the sandwich back up. Maka's expression was still cheerful when she was approaching him, however, plopping down by his side and taking back her food, starting to nibble on a potato.

"Shouldn't you go home?" Soul heard himself speak.

Maka didn't even pause her munching, which puzzled him further. "Why?"

"Yeah, uh, you have a kid, right? So shouldn't you be—I don't know—taking care of them or—" Soul's stutter was cut off by Maka's bursting laugh. She had to hold onto the lamp post next to her to keep herself steady, cackling uncontrollably. Blair happily caught a few potatoes that were falling from the force of her laugh. Soul instinctively went defensive, "What?!"

"You—oh, my goodness—you thought—ahahah—you thought Kid was my child?!"

"Wha—" pink started dusting Soul's cheeks. Was he mistaken?

"He's my superior, you idiot!" Maka continued, still giggling and holding her stomach, "Colonel Kristopher Morton. 'Kid' is just a nickname we gave him."

When his brain finished processing her words, the pink on his cheeks rapidly changed into crimson and bled all over his face, even his ears and the back of his neck. There was nothing he wanted more than to find a cliff and throw himself off of it, then set his corpse on fire, and finally bury what was left of it in the middle of the desert.

"Awww, no need to feel embarrassed, Soul!" Maka cooed, laughing at his spectacularly miserable attempt to hide his ferocious blush.

"Shut up!"

But Maka was kind enough to finally stop her giggles and managed to explain in a conversational tone, "Well, it's not your fault. His first name is the same as his father's, so calling him 'Kristopher' or even just 'Kris' feels weird. Then our friend Patty Thompson had the idea to combine his middle names; Kristopher Ignatius Damian, hence 'Kid'."

Soul grunted.

"Hey, you're not one to talk. Yours is not that normal either!"

Soul opened his mouth to defend himself, but closed it again. Truthfully, even his real name was also far from Ishvalan's normalcy. But he liked it, dammit, and it was given to him by one of the most important people in his life.

His sulky thoughts halted altogether as he realized what was implied in Maka's previous explanation. "Wait, Kristopher Morton?! As in _the Führer_?!"

Maka smiled sadly, "Former Führer. But yes, he was Kid's father."

Soul gulped, he might have been raised in a lab and had spent his teenage years in a dead city, but there was no way he didn't know that name; Kristopher Morton, the former Führer, who was killed in the coup over twenty years ago. He was the only Führer who actually wanted to end the decades-old pointless civil war in Ishval and was truly fighting for a peaceful resolution. His death marked the first official military move to exterminate the Ishval tribe.

Funny how military command allowed his son to enter their force and even manage to gain such a high position.

"Why did they allow him to be a soldier, then?"

"Kid was too powerful for them to ignore. He was also a State Alchemist, and a great one at that," Maka answered nonchalantly. Soul's heart did a single unpleasant beat when she said 'State Alchemist'. Maka appeared to feel his uneasiness, because she paused for a while, but she was choosing not to comment on it and Soul was very grateful for her decision. "I never say this out loud, but I think high command prefers to keep him under their surveillance rather than let him spread his wings out there. Maybe they're even trying to control him. A foolish decision."

"Why? Is he that strong?"

Maka took a bite of her sandwich, "Well, if it's pure short-distance combat, he's certainly the most dangerous."

"Because he's a State Alchemist?" Soul said with fabricated calmness.

"Yeah," she smiled strangely, "His alchemy… is frightening."

Soul had seen many frightening things alchemy could create, so honestly he didn't think that he would be surprised at what the Colonel could do.

"If he touches you, it's over," Maka continued.

"How so?"

"Well, firstly, you have to know Paracelsus's Three Principles to understand his power," she suddenly started babbling in that excited voice she got when she was speaking about alchemy. Soul smiled inwardly. Sometimes it was unnerving to see how Maka resembled her mother. "The universe is composed of Three Principles and Four Elements. They're always specifically proportioned, especially in living beings. The Three Principles, or Tria Prima, is consisted of _salt, mercury and sulfur,_ representing the _body, mind _and _soul,_ respectively. We living beings can function normally because they're balanced. But Kid can—hey, are you listening to me?"

Maka stopped to scowl at a snickering Soul. He himself didn't realize he was laughing, his previous uncomfortable thoughts about State Alchemists suddenly scattered away. Well, no one could blame him, her childish excitement was too amusing. "Sorry, go on, go on…"

Maka still glared at him incredulously, but continued anyway, "Well then, as I was saying, Kid can manipulate the proportions of the three principles, disrupting their balance."

"So he could, what, like destroy us with a single touch?"

"Yeah, basically. Or torture us by disrupting our minds, or even just downright unbind our souls from our body," she straightened her legs, playing with a fried potato. "Our Professor once said that if Kid had been born with a gift like mine and was able to use long distance transmutations, he would certainly be the most dangerous alchemist to ever live. Without the use of any fifth element like the Philosopher's Stone, that is."

Soul shuddered. That was pretty frightening, indeed.

"He could even manipulate a corpse if he wanted to. Do you know what his title is?"

He warily shook his head, but somehow he could guess the answer.

"The Reaper."

Boy, was he right.

But Maka suddenly giggled at his uncomfortable expression, waving her hand, "No need to be afraid, Kid's too kind to actually use his full power. He mainly just uses it to knock people out or something, he loves his balance and symmetry too much to actually destroy the principle's perfect proportions."

Huh. An incredibly dangerous State Alchemist with a kind heart.

What a concept.

"You'll find out when you see him. I'm sure you'll get along just fine!"

Soul wasn't too sure of that.

* * *

Kid almost flinched when his office door banged open. Almost.

"IT'S BEEN SIX DAYS!"

Kid held himself from sighing. Yes, he knew. He was also anxiously counting the days and diligently crossing them out on his calendar, thank you very much.

"I know, Liz, I—"

"WE HAVE TO GO TO THAT SATAN'S ARMPIT IMMEDIATELY!"

"Liz, I already—"

"I'LL GO TO THAT GOD-FORSAKEN PLACE MYSELF AND YOU CAN'T STOP M—"

"Elizabeth!"

Liz stopped dead in the middle of her yell with both of Kid's hands shaking her shoulders, forcing her to look straight at him. Kid was almost hopeless when it came to stopping the Thompson Sisters from their crazy ideas, but at least he knew how to calm them down. Especially the elder sister.

"I know Maka's late. But we can't just go marching to the desert as we please. _We don't help her in her research_, remember?"

Yes. His position in the military was very fragile. He already had plenty of accomplishments, yes, but that didn't mean high command wouldn't demote him when they saw the chance. In fact, it only made their resentment worse.

The only reason he was allowed to supervise the Grigori Alchemist, one of the most powerful State Alchemists in Amestris, was the fact that both he and Maka had studied under the tutelage of Professor Frank N. Stein. That, and Maka had firmly refused to publish her Mama's research under the command of any other officer.

Things were calm enough right now because no one had any solid proof that he was the current Grigori's lab partner. But Kid deduced that the moment he officially let himself in on the Grigori's research, they would twist the story into him conspiring a coup by using some kind of alchemical weapon.

It was tricky, being the former Führer's son.

"But, Kid—"

"We're going. But not now. I already sent Kilik to Gallows Hill, okay?"

Liz's momentary calmness was replaced by anger once again, "Why didn't you tell me?! I'm dying from anxiety here!"

Kid understood her feelings, really. It was the first time Maka ever went on a journey by herself. Usually Tsubaki or even Black Star went with her. Not because she was incompetent (God, no, she was far from that word), but because they all felt the mutual need to protect her and keep her from loneliness ever since the tragedy over ten years ago.

"You can't just go, Liz. You're my adjutant. And we have the upcoming drill with the Western HQ to plan."

Liz opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She knew he was right.

"How can you be so calm?" she finally grumbled to his desk.

Kid frowned, "I am not."

He was far from calm, actually. He placed his gloved hand over his alchemy-hidden drawer and transmuted it open, pulling out a document, and placed it before Liz.

"I have an unpleasant feeling that something big and nasty is happening around us, and that it started right after Mrs. Kamiko's death."

Liz read the document hastily, her expression souring more and more after each page. It was an organized document of small and seemingly trivial incidents like kidnappings and sudden population drops of some animal species. Having years of friendships with many State Alchemists, Kid was sure Liz could recognize the pattern, even if she knew next to nothing about alchemical theory.

"They were taken by the same guy?"

"And were used as experiment subjects of a sort."

He saw the paper on Liz's hand trembled. "But—but there's humans in this report! Human transmutation is a—"

She stopped when she saw Kid's grim look. He knew she was remembering the words of his Professor; that over the years, there was always an alchemist mad enough to thought it was acceptable to experiment on humans, just for the sake of science. The statement was made worse by the Professor's implication of him nearly doing the same thing to other people if Maka's mother hadn't been there to stop him.

Experimenting on humans was a taboo, yes. But since when did humans shy away from taboo?

Their dark thoughts were interrupted by a second door crash. Patty's head popped in from the hall, completely scattering the heavy atmosphere between her sister and her superior.

"Kiiiid! Maka called us!"

This was followed by the screeching of Kid's chair and a beaming smile on Liz's face. Finally, news. He reached for the phone on his desk, but Patty stopped him.

"No, not a military phone, silly! She called Harv's!"

Kid exchanged worried glances with Liz. Harvar's apartment was their secret communication base. Maka must have found something dangerous or sensitive enough to not want it traceable on a military line. Liz protested when he told her to stay in the headquarters, but Kid reasoned quickly that he needed someone to make sure nobody knew where he was going. Kilik was off and Ford was busy with his own assigned mission, so the only choice was Liz (Patty was too easily distracted). He breathed a thanks when she grumbled her agreement and quickly gestured at Patty to follow him.

They walked at a brisk pace with a calmness they didn't feel, hoping nobody would notice their rush. Thankfully it was a short walk, and it wasn't even five seconds after they had opened Harvar's door that the phone rang suddenly.

Ignoring the apartment's owner, Kid strolled through Harvar's living room and picked up the ringing device. "Colonel Morton speaking."

_"Thank god, Kid!"_ Maka's voice chimed from the other side. He exhaled the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Seemed like Maka was okay. _"I'm sorry it took so long for me to report. There's been a few… uh, complications."_

His heart rate picked up again, "What happened? You okay?"

_"I'm okay, but…"_ He waited restlessly, it was rare for Maka to be nervous, and it was rarer to hear it in her voice. _"I didn't find anything alkahestry-related in Death City, I wasn't looking hard enough, I guess, but—but I… I met someone…"_

Someone?

"Who?"

_"His name is Soul. He… has a history with my Mama, you could say that, and he said he knows the locations of a few of Mama's hidden laboratories, so now he's going with me to get more of her documents."_

Kid frowned. That was very uncharacteristic of her. Maka Albarn wasn't a girl who would accept help from a man easily, never mind trusting him enough to allow him in on her journey. The way she talked also implied she had much more to say, but couldn't. Dozens of bad scenarios were swimming inside his brain. He wanted her to find Mrs. Kamiko's research as fast as possible, yes, but he never wished for her to be in danger.

"Maka, what are you up to?"

_"Nothing? I just want to collect Mama's documents like I always did."_

Kid sighed. Okay, different approach.

"Okay, I believe you. But I must say I have to meet this 'Soul' person to make sure he's not bad news."

There was a pause.

_"Okay,"_ she finally answered.

"Good. Where are you now?"

_"I'm in eastern Rashville, and maybe will stay three or four days here."_

Three or four days. Crap. It would take a whole day from East City to Rashville. The military drill was the day after tomorrow and would likely last a week. Nobody would be allowed to take a day off, obviously.

"Are you planning to go back to Gallows Hill after that?"

He heard Maka's hum vibrating from the speaker. _"No, I guess, I wanna get all the documents as fast as possible."_

Kid's frown deepened. More uncharacteristic behavior. While she was always eager, Maka Albarn was a careful person. She obviously knew the danger of carrying mountains of alchemy research all over the state while brandishing her Silver Pocket Watch.

"You know the consequences, don't you?" he said, met by Maka's grumble. "Just go back to Gallows Hill after you're done with Rashville, Maka."

_"I can't!"_

"Why not?"

_"I—there's just something I need to do, Kid!"_

Kid brought his hand to massage his temples, holding himself from growling. "Okay, okay. Let's just do this. We can meet somewhere in—let's say, ten days, and we can talk about this further. Sounds good?"

He heard Maka mumble to herself before she said rather hesitantly, _"We'll be in Dublith by then."_

Kid exhaled, "Dublith. Perfect. We'll meet at BJ's place."

_"Okay. Bye."_

"Hmm. Be careful."

_"I am."_

Kid put the phone back and let himself sink to the sofa. Harvar was, apparently, having an arm wrestling match with Patty. Both of them turned to him the moment he plopped down.

Harvar put up the faintest hint of a smirk, which was equal to a widely amused grin in his book. "So what did Miss Grigori say?"

The Colonel ignored his question, "Call Kilik back, and see if you can arrange something with BJ immediately."

* * *

"Here it is."

Maka tapped a rocky wall in the northern border of Rashville with her gloved hand. The stone she stroked was pretty smooth, but an alchemist would know the subtle edges of alchemical transmutation marks on its surface.

It was nothing like a civilian would picture when they think of the word 'laboratory'. The building was underground, in the middle of rocky hills, with a firm cliff as the entrance.

Soul had been there, yes, but it was over eleven years ago. Rashville had changed and there were more buildings and roads than he remembered. Luckily for them, Maka was an expert at detecting alchemical marks and had the gift of alkahestry to lead her where the alchemical energy was flowing, using the earth's 'dragon path'.

It was part of how Maka had succeeded in locating Mama's labs faster and more accurately than other people, of course, because she could feel the energy flow of Mama's alkahestry residue and knew her style by heart. Another part of her success was that Mama tended to seal the entrances using alkahestry, which would take another month if one tried to unseal it using standard alchemy.

Sparks of green angel wings illuminated their surroundings as the transmutation sound echoed. An opening now gaped on the wall. Maka was about to step in when she caught sight of Soul still standing rigidly under a nearby tree.

"Soul?"

As she walked towards him, faint tremors were visible on the sunglasses he held awfully tight.

Maka frowned to herself. Of course, she should know better.

Even if it was an abandoned lab of his supposed savior (and creator, arguably, but she wouldn't think of that), it was still an alchemy lab; the kind of place where he had been imprisoned and experimented on for years. Coming back here after gaining (some kind of) freedom had to be awful and frightening.

Her breath hitched at the thought that this boy had basically been willing to endure all of that just to help her in achieving her goal. _To help her prove him wrong._

Maka bit her lip at his strained expression. She squared her shoulders and bravely reached for his hand, gripping it tight.

"It's okay."

She could see that Soul was completely caught off guard by her action, having his personal space invaded so suddenly; his mouth parted slightly and his eyes popped at hers in surprise. Maka was afraid that she was being too forward and insensitive when Soul finally softened his expression into a slightly weary smile and tightened their hold.

Hand-in-hand, they stepped into the dark laboratory.

* * *

Soul had to distract every bit of his brain from the fact that Maka was holding his hand if he still wanted to keep the laughably shrimpy dignity he had left. Luckily she was too captivated by the abandoned room to properly notice his nervousness.

But on the bright side, holding her hand gave him the reassurance he needed; that everything was okay, that he was in the present and hadn't gone back to those dreadful times. He was able to block unpleasant thoughts—and even his Demon—and just remembered the happy times he'd had here with his big brother.

They found a way to start the backup generator and illuminate the whole place. Maka immediately went to inspect and document a huge transmutation circle in the middle of the room, reluctantly letting go of his hand. She was careful to keep their distance short, however, much like how Mrs. Kamiko used to hover after he or his brother had a panic attack, something Soul found rather endearing.

Maka carefully shifted the sleeping cat inside her bag to find her magnifying glass. As usual, Soul sat on a nearby box, watching her work with enthusiasm. At least until a certain scratch on the floor caught his attention. He shifted some dusty boxes away to get a better look. Like he thought, the scratch was a line connecting specifically placed dots; a constellation.

It was the Canis Major.

"Maka, can you transmute on this floor?"

Maka stopped her drawing, turning at him. "Yeah, but why?"

"I recognize these marks," Soul replied, pointing to the scattered dots on the floor. "It's Mrs. Kamiko's code for Wes."

"For your brother?" she said in surprise, standing up to approach him.

"Yeah," Soul replied, "Could be something Mrs. Kamiko left for Wes or the other way around. Wes used to come back to Amestris once in a while to get stuff like clothes and the like. It's their way of communicating, I guess."

"You think there's some kind of message here?"

"Possibly," Soul nodded. "I don't remember this code from the last time I was here. This place is the last lab Mrs. Kamiko hid us in before she instructed us to go to Death City."

"But this is an alchemy-sealed surface, Soul," Maka inquired, feeling the dotted floor with her fingertips, "Then your brother, he—"

"—was an alchemist, yeah. Mrs. Kamiko taught him herself."

Maka's eyes widened before scrutinizing the floor again. Then she leaned towards the transmutation marks and put both her gloved hands above the Canis Major. Light green angel wings sparked for a few seconds before the surface cracked open, revealing a second layer of the stone floor.

There was nothing in there except for a few lines of a message of some sort carved on the stone. The top half was impossible to read because the stone was horribly cracked, but the bottom part was readable, mostly.

Soul froze when he read the carvings.

It was a message in Ishvalan. A selfish request from a sinful woman_._

_'I wish nothing for myself, just for that child. Please, protect her.'_

There was no doubt on who 'that child' was.

And there, below the last line of her message to Wes, there was a carving of a halved sun. The top half was light and the bottom was dark; _his_ code.

Only a single line was carved next to his symbol:

_'Stay with her, you and she will be stronger together.'_

* * *

"Soul? What's written on there?"

Maka refrained from shaking the silent Soul and demanding the answer. The young alchemist recognized the characters as Ishvalan, but that was the extent of what she knew about it. Ishvalan was a very complicated language and it was rarely taught to Amestrian children due to the civil war. She knew she had to give the boy some time to process the message, but she didn't like being left in the dark. She liked it even less when she saw Soul looked as if he was about to cry.

Maka didn't understand. Soul had clearly said that her Mama was the one who transmuted the weapon into him; the one who ruined his body, but he wasn't reacting like how a victim would to his abuser. When she thought about it further, he had always spoken about her with respect. The way he gazed at the message… it was almost like—like how a child reacts to their late parent's memento. She knew the look well, having worn it herself countless times.

But it could only mean that they were close, right? That Mama was their savior instead of the one who had ruined their lives? _She_ couldn't be a sinner, right?

Maka pushed those thoughts aside. No. Not now.

"Soul?"

The boy blinked several times and cleared his throat before answering, "Sorry, I just—it's Mrs. Kamiko's message… For Wes."

Ah.

Another solid proof of Mama's affiliation with the brothers. Maka smiled wryly, pulled back her hands, and clutched them on her lap.

"It's personal, then…?"

Soul nodded at her with a strange look on his face, "Kinda, yeah."

She bit back her own curiosity. If it was personal, then she wouldn't pry. Even though she felt a sting in her heart for being left out of Mama's secret, she would bear it. Even though she knew she wasn't the most patient person in the world, she would wait. She was afraid that forcing Soul to say anything would trigger him, and she didn't want him to experience that horrible attack again. She believed Soul would tell her if he was ready anyway, however unreasonable the belief was.

She sighed.

Again, how uncharacteristic of her.

* * *

"My Maka is everything to me, she's the cutest and the most talented little girl in the world. She's impossible to not adore, you will see when you meet her!"

Mrs. Kamiko was blabbing again in that disgustingly uncharacteristic tone she had when talking about her daughter. No one would believe them if they said the Head Alchemist was such a doting mother. Her usual façade was too cold and flawless.

Wes was listening with his usual amusement, sitting towards her with a hand supporting his chin. It was his older brother instincts, perhaps, that made him so excited at the prospect of a little sister to dote on.

But Soul, on the contrary, was sulking in the corner, loathing the idea.

Picturing Wes playing with a little faceless girl was bad enough, but picturing Mrs. Kamiko lovingly hugging that faceless child was worse. With Wes, at least, he knew he would always choose him over anything; they were family by birth, by blood, and they loved each other unconditionally. But with Mrs. Kamiko, he knew he was nothing but a lab animal; he'd never had the right to call her his _mother_.

A ridiculous thought, yeah. It was childish and selfish of him to be jealous of a little girl he'd never met, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

She was not his mother, and he was not her son.

Part of him denied the curiosity he felt at the little faceless girl, never wanting to admit that after hundreds and hundreds of times hearing about her, she had, indeed, piqued his interest.

He would never, ever want anything to do with that little faceless girl.

Well, it was a useless thing to think about. They would never get out of this cursed place, anyway.

"But what if you _do_?"

Soul was startled by Mrs. Kamiko's sudden question. The alchemist and his brother were staring at him with blank looks on their faces. The little faceless girl was standing between them, staring at him with her little eyeless face.

"Would you still think that way when you see her?" Mrs. Kamiko said.

The little faceless girl now stepped forward.

"Would you still hate her?"

The little faceless girl wasn't that little anymore, and he was growing along with her.

"Wouldn't you try to know her?"

The little faceless girl now had a face. A familiar face with gleaming green eyes.

"Do you still hate her after finally having met her?"

The little faceless girl—who had fully transformed into Maka Albarn—said accusingly with Mrs. Kamiko's voice.

"Wouldn't you try to protect her?"

_Maka _reached for his cheek, still speaking with her mother's voice, but Mrs. Kamiko and Wes were gone. They were not in the lab anymore. They were in that broken church.

_"You know you couldn't hate her, do you?"_

Yes, he knew. No use to deny it.

_"Your brother is gone. Now it's your duty to carry that selfish request of that sinful woman."_

Would he?

"Soul?"

_"Protect her."_

He would.

"Soul!"

"_You and she will be stronger together._"

Perhaps.

"Soul, wake up!"

Soul gasped awake.

They were inside a cargo train, halfway on their way to Dublith. Since they'd lost their horse at Little Hook on that chaotic night, they had to think of another way to travel. And since Soul wasn't that comfortable with the thought of encountering military yet, their selection was limited.

"Are you okay? You're sweating so much!"

"Wh—" he raised his palm to his clammy face and—oh, she was right.

"Bad dream?"

Soul did a weird mix of a head shake and a nod. Man, it seemed like he only showed her his uncool sides. Maka didn't seem to care about his coolness level, anyhow, still staring at him with that concerned look. Since when did she gave him that much attention anyway? Soul grumbled to himself. Since Little Hook. The more relevant question was_ 'why'_.

"Are we there yet?" he peeked at the slit between the cargo train's sliding doors to avoid her scanning eyes. It was dark outside.

"Not until dawn. Six or seven hours more."

He hummed. "You should go back to sleep, then."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He nodded with a dry grin. She gave him one last incredulous look before pulling her trench coat over her chest, pretending to sleep.

Maka's cat made her way to his lap and curled there, purring.

* * *

Maka blinked blearily.

When had she fallen asleep? She was just shutting her eyes for a bit and was intending to listen at Soul in silence. Her coat slipped when she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

It was quiet.

Well, not exactly quiet, the train was loud, but there was no other sound beside it.

She looked around to find no Soul and no Blair, only crates and boxes the train was supposed to deliver. Panic almost engulfed her when she felt two soul reactions from above her.

What were they doing up there?

Maka Albarn was built from 75% agility and 25% nimbleness; it was easy for her to find a way up. Under five seconds, her head had already popped above the train's roof, scanning her surroundings for her two missing companions.

There he was, laying down on his back with his legs swaying off the edge of the train's cargo box. Blair was curled on her new favorite pillow; his belly. He looked calm and rather foreign, whistling a strange tune while petting her cat's fluffy head.

Blair really seemed to like him. Huh.

"You like cats?"

Soul jolted at her voice, nearly knocking Blair off of his stomach (the cat yelped in irritation). He was quickly sitting upright and back to petting her cat to hide his surprise. "No, I—I don't know," he mumbled as she made herself comfortable beside him. "Animals tend to avoid me. Y'know, being weapon and all."

Maka smiled, proud of Blair for not shying away from Soul. But when she really thought about it, her pet was not exactly a normal cat.

Wanting to steer the conversation away from sensitive topics, Maka blurted, "What are you doing here?"

Soul shrugged. "Stargazing."

Her interest was piqued. "You seem to like doing that, huh?"

"Yeah, it's calming. We often did it with—," he stopped mid-sentence, stole a glance at her, and continued with different tone, "I often did it with Wes in Death City."

Maka knew an emergency alteration when she heard one. She slit her eyes at him, but he skillfully dodged her scrutinizing glare by petting Blair harder.

Well, not that she didn't already know what the problem was; they both knew stargazing was Mama's hobby. She decided to let it go, it was no use pestering him over a trivial matter. What she could conclude was that Soul respected Mama enough to actually adopt her hobby.

Unfortunately, as it tended to do, melancholy crept out whenever Mama crossed her mind.

"Do you have a favorite star?"

Startled by his sudden question, Maka automatically spouted. "Polaris, maybe. You?"

"Sirius." His answer was almost instantaneous, making her stare at him in bafflement.

"Why?"

He just smirked, "Wezen."

Oh, the Canis Major[2].

She snorted when she caught the brothers' inside joke. They continued to talk (and argue) about astronomical things when Maka caught sight of his eyes again. They were sparkling with an emotion similar to triumph despite the scowl that was wrinkling his face.

Did—did he just try to distract her from her glumness?

She smiled to herself, letting her body fall onto the train's roof as she stared into the starry sky. Mama's words were echoing in her ears as she carefully tried to feel for his soul.

_'It's not the shape that matters, it's the soul that's important.'_

It was not important whether he was an Ishvalan fugitive or a rude boy who trampled over her memory of Mama. The most important part was lying deeper inside.

When she really saw him as a person, she realized he was a gentle and kind soul.

* * *

The silence was comfortable.

Actually, no, it was not silent. The train was loud and Blair meowed once in a while, but they were all ambient noises, easily faded out by the soft tapping of Maka's feet and the grand scenery of the Milky Way flowing above them.

Soul's mind flew back to his strange dream earlier, and he suddenly realized that he hadn't told Maka anything about Mrs. Kamiko's message they'd found six days ago.

He could feel her bubbling curiosity and her disappointment every time they danced around the topic, but she always made sure she didn't voice them out loud.

She was giving him time.

Soul cursed to himself. He would ruin the little cheerfulness he'd worked hard to build, but this had to be said. Maka deserved to hear it.

"Maka?"

She hummed a reply.

"About the message in Rashville…"

"Yeah?"

She didn't sound surprised or excited despite her nearly unconcealed curiosity, as if she'd known he would tell her eventually. She just listened in silence while patiently giving him the time to compose his words.

"It's about you, I think…"

Now she openly showed her surprise, bolting upright. "Me?!"

"Yeah."

"What—what is it?!"

He swallowed a lump in his throat before whispering, "She was requesting for Wes—and by extension, me too, I guess—to protect you. "

Maka was silenced by bewilderment, opening and closing her mouth a few times without making any sound. All she could manage was a weak 'Why…?'

"Because we're both Human Weapons? Because she knew we were exceptional candidates for bodyguards?"

She ignored him, once again muttering a weak 'Why…?'

Soul glanced away from Blair and let his eyes fall on hers, finally speaking directly to her. "Because she loved you the most, Maka. And she wished only the best for you."

_'But never us'_ was left unspoken.

Maka's eyes widened as she fought against gritting her teeth. The girl slumped back in her spot, eyes trailing away from his. She tightly embraced herself with both arms. He knew she was fighting fiercely to not let any of her tears spill, and he gave her privacy, like a gentleman, by awkwardly stroking Blair's fluffy back.

Finally, Maka was calm enough to distract herself by continuing her soft tapping.

It was quiet for a while. No, not quiet, of course, the train still ran noisily as it made its way to South Province, but the three of them didn't speak a word. Not even chatty Blair. Soul was just wondering if that night's conversation was finally over when he remembered one more thing he must confess.

Mrs. Kamiko had actually instructed him to be together with _her_, whatever she meant by that.

Soul stole a glance at Maka. How would he say that without upsetting her further? He fought the urge to scratch the back of his neck. Here went nothing.

Hoping for his conversational skills to not fuck everything up for once, he inhaled once before mumbling, "Uhh, Maka? Honestly… She also left a message for me…"

Maka didn't give any sign of surprise except for her feet's sudden pause, which went completely unnoticed by Soul because he was talking to Blair's ear. He took her silence as permission to continue, resuming his confession before he lost the courage.

"_She_ said that we should be together."

Maka's lack of response was bugging him, so he dared to peek. When he found she was staring at him, her cheeks flushed, in pure dumbstruck surprise instead of the sorrowful shock he had expected, Soul was instantly aware of what his previous words implied.

Oh, fuck.

"I—not together like _that_—I mean—no! What she really wrote was that—that you and I could be stronger together! Like partners, maybe—uh—or travel buddies? What I wanna say is—dammit—what I wanna say is—"

But Maka just snorted a little dejectedly. "I understand, Soul."

Well, at least she wasn't crying. But hell, he still wanted to throw himself off the train.

* * *

The day was shifting into evening again when they arrived at their destination; an old inn named Mandailing.

Maka had told him she was reluctant to sleep at an inn because the majority of the hotels in Rashville were owned by the military. They could get a good nap, yes, but she deduced it wouldn't end well. The average citizen didn't give a damn about Ishvalans, but military tended to be hostile towards them. The situation would certainly get worse because Soul was an unregistered Amestrian.

But this particular inn was different. The owner was Maka's acquaintance, and the building was located on the outskirts of the city, far from the military's eyes.

Soul stole a glance at his companion. Maka had been strangely unvocal about the topic of the previous day, skillfully dodging his concerned glances and trying a little too hard to be cheerful.

Did she really hate the idea of being protected by Human Weapons?

Well, yeah, actually, she might.

"Long time no see, Miss Grigori!" The innkeeper, a beefy man went with the name BJ, greeted Maka enthusiastically, scattering Soul's musings away. "I haven't seen you since you were, what, five?"

Maka dodged him with a roll of her eyes. "BJ, I literally slept here two months ago."

The man huffed. "You always conveniently choose the time when I'm on vacation, don't you?" he accused, met by Maka's flat smirk. "Anyway, how's—"

"No, I haven't been to Miss Marie's and I don't know how she's doing, so save your breath."

BJ's demeanor suddenly shifted. "Un-cute kid." He threw a key to Maka and jerked his head up. "Your room's the third one on the second floor."

Maka winked at the innkeeper impishly, dragging Soul with her upstairs.

"Uh, what's all that about?"

Maka hummed absently, "What? BJ?" she giggled, "He always pesters me about his ex, Miss Marie, who now is the girlfriend of my alchemy professor."

"Huh?" Soul's brows furrowed as he failed to render the mental image.

He was saved from the need to think further about the weird love triangle, because they had arrived in front of their rooms. Or _room._

There was only one room.

Maka opened the door casually, completely missing his rapidly reddening face. They had been sleeping within ten-meters of each other every night, yes, but it was always outdoors, in places that absolutely wouldn't rouse a certain atmosphere.

Unlike a room with a bed.

Well, it had two beds, but still.

"You only got one room?" he heard himself squeak.

A flash of green light and a transmutation sound followed. A firm wall now stood between the two beds.

Oh.

"Of course," commented Soul, now wanting to smack his head against the nearest wall.

Maka smiled smugly before throwing herself on the bed near the window without bothering to take her coat off first, sighing in contentment. "Finally, a bed! I was starting to forget that this God-given thing exists!"

Blair meowed her agreement from the sofa. She had claimed a purple pillow and was purring loudly.

Soul circled the sofa towards his new sleeping spot, warily testing it by pushing a palm on it. Seemed nice. Then he tried to sit, unbuckling his boots and letting them drop noisily. Okay, very nice. Finally, he stretched up and threw his head to the pillow, and—Oh!

God-given thing, indeed. Certainly letting this thing go in the morning was going to be a big problem.

Soul wondered how Wes would react if presented with the God-given thing. Chuckling, he pictured the ridiculous image of he and Wes bouncing up and down the bed, competing for who could jump the highest. Wes might be the older brother, but sometimes it was uncertain who was the adult between them. Soul smiled, Wes's grin was clearer when he closed his eyes.

But strangely, the more comfortable he got, the more awake he felt. The moonlight filtering in through the window was doing weird things to him, captivating his mind in a blur of soft lights. He ended up staring at the ceiling and listening to Blair's steady purr.

It felt foreign to him to be laying on a bed next to _the little faceless girl_, who was neither little nor faceless anymore.

_'I wish nothing for myself, just for that child. Please, protect her.'_

He would.

_'You and she will be stronger together._'

Perhaps.

At least, it was calming to think that Wes would certainly make the same choice.

"Maka…"

He didn't realize he was saying her name out loud, so it was surprising to suddenly hear her humming back. He had been sure she'd already fallen asleep. Now that she gave him her attention, he felt the need to voice his decision.

"I will protect you."

With the firm wall between them and nothing beside the moon to light the room, Soul had no way to see how her eyes rounded and her lips parted slightly, nor could he see her choking back a gasp and struggling to keep a tear from escaping her eyes.

She hummed again, but it was impossible to interpret her meaning, as he couldn't see what kind of expression was accompanying that answer.

But as he closed his eyes, he somehow concluded:

It was a reluctant yes.

* * *

Footnotes :

[1] : It should be noted that State Alchemists and regular alchemists are different. Regular alchemists did their own research for themselves and/or for providing their services for the benefit of the people. State Alchemists submit all of their research to the state, and had to join the military ranks when required. Kamiko, however, was both, as she had done plenty of private research while submitting official papers.

[2] : Sirius is the brightest star in Canis Major, Wezen is the second brightest.


	3. Chapter 3

[A/N] : I hate the formatting of this site. It doesn't let me use strike-through texts, ugh.

Anyway, the texts inside brackets in the chapter prologue were meant to be striked-through, because they're too damaged for Soul to read.

* * *

Chapter 3 : Old Buildings Tend to Collapse

* * *

_[I left a message for her.]_

_[She will find you two eventually.]_

_[When she does, please explain everything to her and your brother.]_

_[Take them as far away as you can and don't come back to this country.]_

_[Live your own lives and please be happy.]_

_[She will know how to keep you and your brother safe.]_

_This is a selfish request from a sinful woman._

_I know I don't deserve anything from you two, but please, please, protect that child._

_I wish nothing for myself, just for that child._

_Please, protect her._

* * *

Maka didn't talk to him.

They were falling back to square one, when she had completely ignored him and he had been making sarcastic comments just to get any sort of reaction out of her.

No, that was not quite right, actually. Maka still responded to him, but only in quiet nods or headshakes, and she'd stopped looking at him in the eye.

He hadn't known her long enough to understand that it was her way of dealing with things that upset her.

Soul sighed inwardly, craving Wes' presence to confide in. He was taken aback by how much he actually missed her voice. It always brought him a sort of calmness, even when all she said consisted of incoherent rambling about alchemy and modern technologies, which he was utterly incapable of understanding 80% of the time.

He hadn't expected her to be this upset over his decision, and he couldn't even imagine why she'd be upset in the first place. Quoting from Mrs. Kamiko herself, he was arguably the most evolutionarily advanced human being alchemy could produce this century; the military's secret hot commodity. Not to brag, but he was sure any alchemist in their right mind would be exhilarated to have him under their command, a fact proven by how fierce the competition had been between the State Alchemists to be the head of the Black Blood project, or even just their struggle to get in on the research team.

_'Ungrateful brat.'_

_'Shut up.'_

Still, Maka wasn't like any other State Alchemist he had encountered. She was curious and hungry for knowledge, yes, but she was a kind soul; the only person who treated him as a decent human being despite knowing his secret and race. The only one besides Mrs. Kamiko.

Maybe she really didn't agree with his decision. Maybe he had interpreted her answer wrong.

But if he had, then why didn't she correct him? Or at least talk about it?

They were in their room, still separated by her transmuted wall. The sound of pen on paper told him she was in her travel notes again. She mentioned nothing about locating the Dublith lab or making a plan to do so, contrasting her haste in Rashville. Or maybe she was just avoiding talking to him.

Soul glanced at the wall again and grimaced. He even missed her scowl when he called her a nerd.

He sat up from the God-given Thing and padded to her side of the wall, knocking on it softly.

"Hey…"

She didn't give any sign of surprise, maybe because of that strange perception ability she shared with her mother. She hummed flatly, her eye corner glanced at his feet.

"You know that abusing those notes won't bring the rest of your mother's research here, right?"

She grunted. Okay, bad choice of words.

"Fungus will grow out of your head if you keep doing that, nerd."

_Bad choice_, dammit.

She growled at her pen, making him wince. Scratching the back of his neck, he nervously sat down on her made bed. Sarcasm would get him nowhere. Grumbling to his own brain, he tried to figure out how to start a fucking normal and healthy conversation. Why was this whole speaking thing always a fucking challenge?

_'Which you suck at.'_

_'Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine?'_

They sat in silence for a while. An hour, probably, or two, who knew. The only things breaking the deafening silence were Maka's pen and Blair's occasional meows.

Oh, fuck it.

"Are you angry?"

Maka flinched, but still didn't face him. "No. Why would I be?"

"Maka," Soul sighed, "You're not looking at me."

Her writing stopped. She turned her chair to face him and glared viciously. "Fine! Now what?"

Oh, her scowl was back. He smiled despite himself, even if it was closer to a grumpy person with toothache than a sign of happiness.

"You don't want me to protect you."

It was not a question, and both of them knew it was true.

"I don't need to be protected," she said finally .

"But you let me."

Maka struggled with her own words, opening and closing her mouth a few times, but in the end she just repeated her previous words with a deflated tone. "I don't need to be protected."

"Even if it's your mother's wish?"

"That's exactly why!" Maka shouted, standing with her fists trembling on her sides as she cursed to no one.

"Why?"

"Urgh! Why is this suddenly so important to you?!"

"Because I wanna know what you're thinking, Maka."

This seemed to halt all of her anger altogether. She wrinkled her face at her innocent cat before slowly sliding her gaze somewhere behind him, fist scrubbing one of her eyes in frustration.

"This is stupid…"

But Soul could feel a little spark of hope that she was beginning to open up, because she was leaning forward and sitting beside him. He waited patiently, carefully keeping his _and_ his Demon's mouths shut, giving her all the time she needed like how she had done for him.

"I just… I let you because you said it was her wish, and I want to believe that—that she had a reason to do it…" she started, her voice suspiciously thick. "But the more I think about it, however hard I deny the possibility, the more I can't stop thinking that she destroyed your and your brother's lives on purpose! Like she was making a shield—or weapon, whatever—for me all along! All of this, from leading me to the Death City to that message she left behind in Rashville, it was meant for us to meet! For you and your brother to eventually be my bodyguards or whatever!"

She was right, of course. It was a very Mrs. Kamiko thing to do. Everything she did was always a part of a bigger plan.

She loved her _little faceless girl _so much, after all.

_And he was not her son._

"I just—you don't have to do this, Soul… I'm a stranger to you!"

True. But nothing could keep him from hating that fact.

"I'm… I'm sorry…" she whispered to her knees, not exactly giving an explanation of what she was apologizing for.

He wore that toothache grin again, "Don't be."

She gave him a cynical look. "You can live your own life without following me as if—as if you owe me something, or telling yourself that you must do everything my Mama said, you know?"

Also true. But not quite.

"While it's true I feel inclined to fulfill Mrs. Kamiko's request, I also have my own reasons, Maka."

She lifted her face at him, skeptical but curious. Ah, finally they met eye-to-eye. He almost forgot how green and round her eyes were.

"I _want_ to protect you…"

The 'why' she spoke with her eyes was louder than if she'd say it aloud. Soul's hand automatically found the back of his neck, rubbing it without his awareness.

"Because… because you searched for me."

"Huh?"

"At that church…" his mouth ran on its own, "You could just go on your way without looking back. Especially after I told you the locations. You didn't need me anymore. And—and I kinda make you irritated and uncomfortable, I know. But you looked for me."

She didn't say anything and he abandoned her eyes to stare at his own fists, but there was a soft gasp from her direction.

"And you held my hands," he continued, voice dropping even lower as he went on, "You make me feel like—like I'm not alone. And you anchored me. I think your mother was onto something when she said I should stay with you."

_'You know, that sounded suspiciously like a confession.'_

Oh fuck, it did.

"I…" Maka trailed off, unsure what to reply, and Soul wished he had teleportation skills so he could bury himself in the nearest cemetery at that exact second. He really should stop making a fool out of himself, seriously.

"I did it because… because I couldn't hate you."

It was his turn to be flabbergasted.

"Trust me, I still want to punch the living daylight out of you for speaking nonsense about my Mama," she growled, making him grin nervously, "But for the life of me, I can't bring myself to truly hate you…"

She stared at something on his chest, making his self-consciousness skyrocket. He silently begged for her to shift her eyes to any other goddamn direction _except him_ because he could feel his ears scorching.

Without warning, she placed her hand above his heart (he prayed to the gods to please not let her notice his frantic heartbeat), her eyes were still anchored on his chest as she said under her breath, "Your soul is so pure."

When she finally raised her face, their eyes met, and Soul didn't understand how he could have not realized that she was _that close_. The heat around his ears bled to the back of his neck. And his entire face, probably. Everything was coming to a complete standstill. Even his own breath was frozen.

He felt funny.

Then there was someone slamming the door.

* * *

"Maka!"

A loud shout of her name interrupted whatever weird atmosphere that was thickening between them. Both of them yelped back to either side of the bed. Maka couldn't decide whether she was angry or grateful for the interruption.

"Maka! You have a guest!" BJ's muffled voice echoed again.

"Guest?" Determined to keep her face schooled, she exchanged a glance with Soul. "I'll be there in a second!" she shouted to the innkeeper.

A swift check with her perception told her it was Kid. Oh, snap, she completely forgot they were going to this inn in the first place to meet Kid. Intending to dismiss the previous whatever-it-was between her and Soul, she cleared her throat and turned the doorknob.

"It's Kid."

Soul's former embarrassment was suddenly replaced by uneasiness. "You mean the Reaper?"

Maka smiled apologetically at his strained face. Having gotten used to her and accepted her occupation as a State Alchemist didn't mean he would do the same for other people. Not to mention Kid was a soldier in active duty, unlike her, who wouldn't wear a uniform unless she was assigned to a war.

"It's okay." More confidently this time, she took his hand and squeezed it, now knowing that the gesture was proficient in giving him support and reassurance.

Soul squeezed back, but was still unwilling to go. Maka tried again, pulling him gently. "Do you remember when I said I'll be your emotional support?"

He grumbled, but his cheeks were tinting and he was standing.

* * *

"But I wanna see Maka too, Kiiiiid!"

Refraining to press on his temple, Kid reasoned with the younger Thompson patiently. "Yes, Patty, but Major General Albarn assigned you and Ford to assist Major Yumi during her investigation here."

Patricia Thompson pouted, "I don't wanna go with Azusa, she's mean!"

Mean wouldn't describe Major Azusa Yumi quite as well as 'disciplined', truthfully. The strict senior officer was the one usually tasked with training military snipers, currently being the best sniper in the military. Patty undoubtedly had more than a few bad experiences during her training with the Major, considering the Sergeant's incredibly pitiful performance at long-range shooting.

Fortunately, Liz decided it was the perfect time to enter the office and reason with her sister fondly. Kid wasn't sure of her method, but five minutes later Patty announced that she would guard the Major voluntarily. Miraculous.

After shooing Patty to her assigned spot, Kid glanced at Harv, who was pushing a button on his radio and holding his earpiece closer.

"Everything's good, Sir."

Kid nodded. Finally.

He advised Liz against bringing her rifle. They wouldn't go to a battle, after all. Just to check on Maka. The Lieutenant sulked, grumbling something about being ready for unpredictable situations, but Kid suspected that she was just enjoying the thought of intimidating Maka's new companion.

The reason why he chose BJ's inn Mandailing as their meeting spot was because the innkeeper himself had an ill opinion of the military as a whole, which was why he enjoyed providing a safe haven for anyone with _secret agendas_ and wouldn't divulge his customer list to the authorities even when presented by an Amestrian Silver Dragon badge.

Kid parked his car behind Mandailing Inn and stepped out, followed by a still-sulking Liz and a flat-faced-as-usual Harvar. They used the back door, of course, as the front of the inn was a quite popular diner. The innkeeper entered the kitchen right after them, carrying a crate full of liquor.

"And I thought you had forgotten your own appointment," he said after taking a look at his kitchen intruders.

Kid gave him a dirty look. "Contrary to popular belief, Joe, I am a busy man."

BJ smirked, setting down his crate. "Could've fooled me."

The Colonel clicked his tongue, "Could you please just go and get Maka?"

"Okay, okay! Gosh, really… Could have at least brought a sack of good coffee beans as payment, but nooo—" the innkeeper's grumbling faded as he exited through the opposite door and climbed upstairs.

They waited in silence. Liz was currently examining BJ's liquor cellar while Harvar just stood there without showing any interest in the kitchen whatsoever. Truthfully Kid had been meaning to go by himself, but Maka's nervous voice in their previous phone call made him a little uneasy. The quick news Kilik reported after he'd told him to check on Maka's trail also put him on edge. There was something unusual about the Grigori Alchemist's new companion.

"Kid!"

He automatically raised his head at his name, very glad to confirm that Maka really was okay with his own two eyes. He didn't have the chance to reply before Liz crushed Maka into her chest like she always did.

"Maaaakaaaaa! You rascal, we told you to report immediately, did we? I was dying from anxiety waiting for your call! Don't you ever do that again! Patty and I were worried sick about you!"

Maka made muffled noises from Liz's chest, and Kid had to pull his Lieutenant back before she suffocated the poor girl to death.

"Liz, she can't breathe."

As if having just realized it, Liz let Maka go a little too fast. "Oh, whoops!"

Maka swayed backwards, but was immediately caught by a firm hand behind her. That was when the three soldiers noticed another presence for the first time.

He was a tall man (almost as tall as Harvar, who was the tallest in Kid's team, but his slouching made the difference more noticeable), with spiky white hair and a pair of glinting sunglasses perched on his nose bridge. He had a hostile atmosphere about him, and Kid didn't know if it was his alchemist instinct or what, but there was something wrong with this guy.

"Oh! Thank you, Soul," Maka said as he let go of her.

Liz was scrutinizing the new guy with that same intimidating look she sported when interrogating a suspect. Probably sensing a rude comment forming inside Liz's mouth, Maka turned to Kid and introduced her new companion with a-little-too-quickly-formed smile.

"Soul, this is Colonel Kristopher Morton—or you can call him Kid," Kid nodded at Maka's introduction. "Kid, this is Soul."

Unintentionally, Kid noticed that Maka and her new companion were standing surprisingly close. He didn't even detect any discomfort radiating from Maka as she leaned even closer and whispered something to Soul.

Wait—were they holding hands?

Very uncharacteristic of Maka Albarn. The girl usually treated physical contact with the opposite gender as something akin to a virus infection.

"This is Liz Thompson, and that guy over there is Harvar D'éclair." Kid vaguely heard Maka resume the introductions as he continued to observe her strange behavior. He barely noticed Liz's displeased huff and Harv's quiet nod. What could have possibly happened between Maka and Soul for her to be this relaxed around him? Kid mused, even with him, Maka was still kept her distance sometimes, and they had known each other for over twelve years.

Those thoughts were forced to the back of his mind, however, as his observation shifted to the boy—to Soul.

Soul glanced at them warily. His posture somehow reminded Kid of a trained soldier despite the visible slouching; the dark eyes behind those sunglasses gave him away. Kid frowned inwardly. It was rude of him to think this way, but the boy's eyes were like an abused dog's looking at potential threats. Also, there was just this odd thing about him Kid still couldn't place.

His gaze fell onto the accessory on Soul's nose when it clicked.

"Is there a reason why you're wearing sunglasses?"

He didn't miss the way he and Maka exchanged a brief look and how her hand seemed to tighten its hold. Finally, with something that could only be described as an exasperated sigh, Soul took off his sunglasses to reveal a pair of deep red eyes. Bingo.

Out of habit, Liz and Harvar tensed beside him. Couldn't be helped, since 60% of Ishvalans they'd encountered throughout their career were either radical haters of the military or downright terrorists. But Kid still maintained his calm posture.

"You didn't tell me he's an Ishvalan."

Maka's eyes darkened, subtly shifting her body to shield the Ishvalan boy. "Is there a problem with that?"

Kid was baffled at her sudden defiance. It was only—what? Two weeks?—since she claimed to have met the Ishvalan boy, but she was already oddly protective of him.

"No."

"Then you could command your subordinates to put their hands away from their pistols."

It was Harvar she was talking about, no doubt, because he was as grim as a funeral and the only way to associate him with any form of happiness was the word 'trigger-happy'. Besides, Kid knew, despite her unfriendly demeanor towards the boy, Liz trusted Maka deeply enough to lower her guard immediately when she saw how Maka protected him.

"Harv?"

Without a sound, Harv tucked his revolver back to its holster. Maka relaxed a bit, but Soul still looked uncomfortable and eyed each of them with partly-covered hostility. Something told Kid he was glad he hadn't worn his transmutation gloves to Dublith that morning.

"Okay, I met them. Can I go now?" Soul grumbled to Maka in a low voice, but not low enough to escape his ears.

Maka pursed her lips and frowned, but let the boy go after one look at him. Soul wasted no time in climbing the stairs and getting the hell out of their sights. Maka sighed and turned her gaze upwards, to where Kid supposed was the direction of Soul's room.

"What's with him?" Liz clicked her tongue, offended.

Maka waved her hand weakly. "Nothing, he's just not the most sociable person."

Harv snorted. "No wonder you get along well." Maka responded with a growl.

Liz snickered behind her fist, but after clearing her throat, added, "But seriously, I don't like his attitude! Maka needs someone gentler!"

"What are you? His mother-in-law?" Harv commented.

Maka ignored both of the Lieutenants and talked to Kid instead, eyebrows furrowed slightly in something close to anxiety. "Kid, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," he eyed Liz and Harv, who immediately went back to their serious mode. Liz was a little hesitant, but finally relented, nodding sharply and trailing behind Harvar to get on with their other business with BJ.

Kid followed Maka up the stairs, turning the opposite way Soul had vanished to earlier, heading towards another set of stairs to the third floor, which they knew was empty and perfect for private talks.

"What's wrong, Maka?"

She made a move that was close to fidgeting, but that couldn't be, Maka Albarn didn't fidget.

"It's about Soul."

Figured. "What about him?"

They arrived at the third floor balcony. Kid leaned against the railing, staring down to the quiet outskirts of Dublith. Maka followed his example but turned her back to the scenery.

"Soul's not a normal human," finally, she mumbled.

Kid quirked his brow, "And what do you mean by that?"

Maka's not-fidgeting transformed into soft taps of her foot, "Would you believe me if I said he can change into a weapon?"

"Maka, neither I nor you are normal and we are considered human weapons."

"Yeah, but he's like—a literal weapon, Kid!" her arms flailed as she tried to explain. "He can change his arm into a steel blade without any circles or arrays whatsoever! He doesn't even do any specific moves!"

What?

"What?!" he blurted his thoughts out loud. "That's impossible!"

"Exactly my first reaction," she laughed weakly, "And he has two souls."

Two what?!

_"Two what?!" _Okay, his mouth was losing its creativity.

"Two souls," Maka repeated, uncomfortable. "It's like… something artificial, I don't know, I've never seen a person with two souls before."

"Figures, yeah," Kid muttered automatically, still bewildered by the sheer ridiculousness of what Maka had just said.

Two souls meant that there was a way to somehow divide a being's _sulfur_ concentration and prevent the two parts to mesh together, which, as an alchemist who specialized in the balance of Tria Prima, Kid could confidently say was _utterly impossible_.

"He said… that it was Mama who made him into a weapon," Maka spoke through her tightened jaw, interrupting his thoughts, "That—that Mama had experimented on humans for years…"

_"Excuse me?!"_

"During the civil war," she continued blabbing as if not hearing his interjection, "Soul said they kidnapped many Ishvalan children and used them as lab animals for some kind of black project [1]."

_"What in the name of symmetry—"_

"What if he's right?" Maka whispered to her knuckles, again ignoring his reaction. "What if he's right, Kid?"

Kid hated the fact that it was probable. A thought about a handsome collection of illegal experiment files inside his office desk popped into his mind, and that they could very well be suggesting the very idea Maka had just voiced. God.

Kid dodged the question, "Is that why you're so eager to locate all of her remaining labs?"

Maka just sent him a pained look.

The Colonel grimaced. Of course he knew what Maka was feeling. He had known the first Grigori Alchemist in person, after all. The idea of a noble scientist such as Mrs. Kamiko doing something as immoral as experimenting on humans was blasphemous. For Maka, protecting her mother's good name was her first instinct. But Kid couldn't conveniently ignore his own findings about traces of animal—and human—transmutation that were centered around Mrs. Kamiko, which were so auspiciously starting to leak right after her death.

He sighed, "I could never assure you of something I don't fully know, Maka. But what I can tell you is to believe in the mother you admire. Not very helpful, I know, but if she was the same kind woman you have loved all your life, you can always have the faith that all she did was for a good cause, and if you find something bad, you'll still have the strength to search for the bigger truth."

The girl made an expression between a smile and a grimace. Kid patted her head. "Now quit moping around. Your _mercury_ is fluctuating wildly and you know how I feel about balance."

She laughed, "A sound soul dwells in a sound mind and a sound body?"

Kid smiled at the recitation of his catchphrase. "Right."

They continued to talk about her findings in the Rashville lab, and reached an agreement that Maka would only go search for one more lab before coming back to Gallows Hill. After a while, she added rather reluctantly, "Could you—could you make Soul a legal identity? You know, so we could travel in peace?"

"Am I hearing Miss Grigori Alchemist suggesting the idea of forging an official document to a Colonel?" He threw her an incredulous look, but both of them were smiling.

* * *

Maka found Soul humming a foreign song while sitting on their room's windowsill, staring down at the quiet city of Dublith. Blair was perching on his shoulder, tail swaying.

"Until when do you plan on sulking?"

He spun his head, eyes lightening when he found her, but his face was wrinkling in mild disgust. "They're soldiers," he said, as if it was a proper answer.

"I thought you already knew that."

Soul grunted as Blair jumped on his leg. "That didn't mean I was more prepared to meet them."

"Me too, you know." At his confusion, she smiled a little wryly, "I'm a Dog of the Military."

Soul growled a disagreement almost instantly, "You're different!"

"Different how?" she chided, approaching him and shooing his legs off of the large windowsill. Soul put down the leg that didn't have Blair on it, freeing up more room for her to sit. It was lost to both of them that they were sitting so close without feeling any kind of discomfort.

"You don't go around intimidating people, and you never use your title to gain power or bully civilians."

Maka snorted, "You don't know that."

"I know," he stubbornly objected.

Maka stared at him in wonder. While she understood the reason behind his demeanor, she still couldn't understand why he was so determined to keep her on a pedestal. She knew she wasn't that kind of a person. She just did what she thought was right. Well, maybe slightly more, but she was sure she never did anything incredible enough to earn that much respect, especially from a person she barely knew.

She was just Maka Albarn, a normal human, not the Angel of Death.

"Thank you," she finally said, but she couldn't see his reaction, as he hid his eyes behind his bangs and was staring out of the window, although his ears were suspiciously darkening.

"But they're good people, Soul."

Soul grumbled something incomprehensible.

Two weeks of traveling together with Soul told her he hated the military with a passion, even if he didn't show it that openly. Understandable, given his background, but she was hoping he would be willing to give Kid and his subordinates a chance since they were her friends. Maka grumbled. Liz's mother-henning made everything worse. If he continued to act this way towards every soldier they met, there would be many awkward situations forming because at least 80% of her friends were associated with the military.

Maka sighed inwardly. There was no use in forcing him to trust her friends. He just had to see it for himself and build the trust slowly, then. Trust develops with time, anyway.

Wait a minute, since when had she started thinking that she would keep him permanently? Maka groaned to herself. It was his fault for declaring that stupid vow.

Wanting to distract herself, Maka suddenly chimed, "Okay, let's stop thinking about that. Now why don't you tell me what name you like?"

"Name?"

"Yeah, for your official document," Maka nodded eagerly. "You need a last name."

"Oh… A last name," he repeated in silent amazement, staring at her as if she was about to give him the most fascinating gift or something.

Maka felt her blood rushing to her face at the intensity of his gaze. Pursing her lips and clearing her throat, she forced her tone to stay normal, even when her voice was slightly higher than she intended, "Yeah! I mean, we can go with 'Soul' as your first name—even if it's a little ridiculous—but Amestrians have last names too! So, is there anything you specifically like, or?"

Soul appeared as if he wanted to say something, but kept silent, so instead of him, it was Blair who answered with a delighted meow.

Maka scowled at her pet, "No, no, Blair, we can't use that. And no, it's not you we're finding a new last name for." The cat protested, growling. "You're my pet cat, if there's any last name you'll go with, it's Albarn!" A few sharp yowls followed. "Well, I'm deeply sorry, Your Majesty, but your underworld title has nothing to do with the rules in our house!"

Soul chuckled, stopping their interspecies bickering. Maka and Blair blinked at him before joining the snickers. Well, it was her that joined the snickering, as Blair was only purring cheerful noises. Cats don't snicker.

"So, any thoughts?"

Soul brought his hand to his chin in a mock-thinking manner, "Hmmmm… Soul Eater?"

Maka smacked his arm, which was met with a laugh by Soul. Blair happily joined in by pawing his chest repeatedly. "Take this seriously, will you?"

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" he gasped between laughs and punches. "Stop smacking me!"

* * *

"Hey, Star!"

"Yo, Kilik! 'Sup, bro!" Black Star caught the Major's hand. "How're the twins?" Metals clinked when they did their complicated bro-shake.

"You heard them," replied Kilik, peeling his gloves off, revealing a pair of automail arms. He raised the left one to the engineer. "Thunder's a bit whiny. She got bumped bad when I went chimera-hunting yesterday."

Black Star tilted his head, inspecting the automail with the tip of his tongue sticking out. Kilik's twins were one of his first creations, and still one of the best to date; two northern style steel arms with alchemical arrays engraved at the back of their palms. The left one was carved with the 'thunder' alchemy circle and the right with 'fire'.

"Looks like she needs some readjusting. I'll take her for tonight."

Kilik complained, "Awww, I hate wearing spares."

He snickered as he pulled out a screwdriver to detach Thunder. Kilik cringed when he screwed off the nerve bolts. Within a minute, Thunder was off, leaving the Major with only a right hand. Tsubaki came in from the shop's back door with his lunch on a tray, chiming a greeting to Kilik as she swiped various gears and automail parts off of the table to make room for the food. Black Star peeked at the table. Lamb stew and Brussel sprouts gratin, complete with homemade bread and an enormous jug of pomegranate juice. Sniffing the heavenly aroma was enough to make him drool. Wasting no time, he abandoned Kilik to wolf the food down.

Man, it was glorious. Tsubaki's cooking was on the divine level, as always.

"Would you like to eat as well, Kilik?" his wife asked the Major when he swatted _Fire_ away from his precious bread.

Knowing that Black Star wouldn't continue his work before his stomach was satisfied (of course), Kilik answered with a sigh, "Might as well get a bite myself, I guess. Thanks, Tsubaki."

Tsubaki got back with more food and a warm cherry pie (had he married a goddess?), sitting down and smiling at both men as they competed to devour the food.

"Did Maka already call you guys?" Kilik suddenly said between chews.

"Well, yes, after she got back to Amestris, but she didn't call again after that. So, to be honest, I'm worried. Did she call the colonel?" Tsubaki replied more clearly, as what Black Star could give was an incoherent mumbling because his mouth was full of stew and bread.

"She really has to fix that bad habit of hers," Kilik shook his head, ripping a slice of bread apart and dipping it into the stew. "Well, yeah. She reported before our military drill started."

Black Star's spoon stopped, but it was Tsubaki who answered with a jab of worry both of them undoubtedly felt, "No new calls?"

"No, but Kid checked on her yesterday. She's okay." Tsubaki's relieved exhale was a louder echo of Black Star's own. Kilik continued with his mouth full of lamb chops, "She's in BJ's place now. Still with her new friend, apparently."

"Oh?" Black Star made an amused noise. It was a very rare occurrence for Maka to stand being next to a male over five minutes without combusting, let alone two whole weeks. It must be an intergalactic record, because world record wouldn't represent this feat quite as well. "Now I'm really interested in knowing this guy."

"Well, Liz keeps saying he's not a right man for Maka, whatever that means," Kilik said with a wolfish grin. Tsubaki giggled, taking a slice of pie that his husband offered. (Contrary to popular belief, Black Star wouldn't selfishly take all the food to himself. Of course he would share with his woman, what kind of man did you took him for?) "She ranted about how bad his posture and attitude was, that he's a rude man with punk-ass getup and creepy sharp teeth. But Kid said Maka liked him, though. They were so suspiciously close for a new acquaintance level."

"Really?" his wife practically glowed at the prospect of a 'male friend' for their sister. They both had always been a little worried that Maka would never find someone. The young alchemist had never enjoyed the thought of romantic love, especially after witnessing what old man Spirit did all her life. Well, sometimes it was just a perfect excuse Black Star needed to harass her by setting her up on a blind date (the Second Lieutenant Ford one was still his masterpiece).

"Yeah, Kid never said it clearly, but he implied that they were holding hands," Kilik whispered conspiratorially at Tsu, making her glow brighter. Black Star rolled his eyes. Honestly he had forgotten how Kilik could be such a gossip when he wanted to. "Oh, and he's also an Ishvalan, it seems."

Black Star's spoon clinked against his plate as his movements faltered for a second. He was still staring at his stew, but he could feel Tsubaki's eyes briefly fly to him in worry.

He felt his lips forming an emotionless smile.

"Ishvalan, huh?"

* * *

Kid stared at the newly forged document in his hand. Maka's new companion finally had a 'legal' citizenship under the name 'Soul Evans'. They spent three hours on the phone arguing about an absurd amount of weird names before Kid kindly reminded her that a normal name would be best.

He couldn't do anything about his race, however, because even though Maka did a good job in dressing him like a common Amestrian, the boy's appearance was still absolutely Ishvalan. Even so, Kid did write his ancestry as mixed-race. As a part-Amestrian, at least Soul had more of a chance to avoid further trouble if he happened to bump into a soldier in the future, because pure-blooded Ishvalans often got the short end of Amestrian's racist laws.

Changing those laws would be one of his top priorities when he finally got the highest seat.

"Colonel!" Second Lieutenant Ford knocked on the open door with a serious expression, adjusting his glasses.

"Ford." Kid put Soul's document down and nodded to him. "So? How was it?"

Ford gave him a rather thick document. "I'm afraid it's like what you said, Sir."

He flipped those papers impatiently, frowning. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I, Sir, but that's what I got. I can't go further without alarming the higher-ups, this is the black project we're talking about," Ford adjusted his glasses again with half-concealed exasperation.

Kid pursed his lips, "I understand. I'll try to find another way for us to gather information. Good work, Ford."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Oh, and put this document into the database."

The Second Lieutenant took the papers curiously, inspecting Soul's portrait. "Oho, is this Miss Grigori's infamous new sidekick?"

Kid nodded, "The very one."

* * *

Despite promising that he would protect her, Soul didn't have any real chances to prove it, since their travels were mostly uneventful, thankfully. But that was until they reached the West Province's border.

The town they were resting in was filled by shifty people and various kinds of criminals, like all the towns in the western rural area were; where war victims mingled with poor people and were eventually pushed by the conditions to allow anything to make a living, including deceiving newcomers and robbing travelers.

Maka was scrutinizing the large map outside a tiny rundown train station, trying to figure which way to go back to Gallows Hill and locate a place where they could find some food, while Soul was curiously examining a parked motorcycle (a terrible way to travel, Maka thought, but Soul unfortunately was fascinated by those hideous machines) on the station's almost empty parking lot.

She didn't know what was happening until she felt her body slammed roughly on the nearest wall, a knife on her neck.

Why did things like this always happen when she closed off her perception?

"Did your Mommy never tell you it's dangerous to walk by yourself in strange towns, little girl? You give me no choice but to rob you!" the man holding the knife grinned madly.

Maka sighed. She was hungry and tired and honestly couldn't bring herself to care about any thievery. Also, gosh, this guy had a bad breath.

Wrinkling her nose, she raised her wallet and was just about to smack the thief with it when the man in question shrilled and fearfully cast his eyes down. A red and black blade had impaled his stomach.

Maka gaped as Soul pulled his blade out of the guy's body without emotion, staring as the thief writhed pitifully on his feet. He raised his arm again for another blow, but this time Maka was alert enough to leap forward and stop him.

"Soul! What are you doing?!"

Soul raised one of his brows as if stating the obvious, "I'm protecting you."

Maka opened her mouth but was too shocked to immediately reply. The thief weaseled away from them while Soul's attention was on her, stumbling on his own feet and screaming as he wobbled away, her wallet lying forgotten.

"Y-yeah, but that guy's just a lousy thief, Soul!" Maka rasped, finally having found her voice. "There was no need to hurt him!"

"But he hurt you!" Soul said, still in that confused tone. "I said I would protect you, didn't I? What did I do wrong?"

Maka refrained from gritting her teeth, "Yes, but that's not how you protect people! Not by slicing at everything that goes near me!"

Soul's frown deepened, "I'm a weapon, Maka. That's kinda what I was trained for."

That made whatever comeback Maka had to die in her throat. Somehow she almost forgot that this awkward but sweet boy she found a month ago was supposed to be a human weapon. A _lethal_ human weapon. He had never told her about his whole past clearly, but he implied that he and countless other children had been kidnapped at a young age and were originally trained to be some sort of a special soldier unit. It wouldn't be strange that his meaning of the word 'protect' would differ from her own; that it meant 'destroy everything that would potentially harm her' instead of 'making sure she was safe'.

Again, she didn't allow herself to think about that, dismissing how Soul said that it was _Mama_ who lead that inhumane project and forged him into this cold-blooded weapon.

Despite her stubborn denial, the thought of those things brought hot liquid to the corners of her eyes. She sucked back her frustrated cry, shuffling inside her bag for a handkerchief. Soul's right hand had already transmuted back into flesh and bone, leaving the thief's blood dripping from the tip of his fingers.

She lifted that bloody hand and started wiping gently to give herself some sort of distraction. "You're… you're not just a weapon…" she angrily whispered, more to herself than to him. "You're a person…"

Her concentration on Soul's bloody hand prevented her from noticing the way Soul's eyes scrutinized her and how his frown smoothed into an unreadable look.

* * *

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Maka brushed Soul's question off again.

They were standing in front of Barrett's Automail Shop instead of the Albarn residence next door. Obviously because she thought it was better if they lifted Tsubaki's worries first by staying at Barrett's instead of her own home. It was certainly not because she had forgotten about what a scene Papa would make if he knew she brought home an adult human of another gender. She would throw him out of the window no problem, of course, but she couldn't guarantee that Soul would still be perfectly healthy without any gunshot wounds before she managed to do so.

It deepened her paranoia that her Papa could see them from one of her house's too many windows.

Blair meowed encouragingly from Soul's shoulder. Maka smiled at her cat; sometimes she really knew the right words to make her feel better. Or right meows, she supposed. Squaring her shoulders, she turned the doorknob of Barrett's shop's side door.

"MAKA!"

A rough bark echoed as soon as they stepped into the house. Maka flinched. She should've known there was another reaction she should be worrying about more than Papa's.

"_SIS!_"

She couldn't see anything except a blob of blue before being crushed into a very beefy hug and enveloped in a thick smell of oils and molten steel.

"Black Star! Eeek—_gross_!"

His actions might make him look like a doting brother, but Maka was familiar enough with the man to know he just wanted to rub as much dirt and oil all over her.

"Is that what you say to your mighty brother after leaving home for so long?!"

Instead of answering him, Maka sputtered angrily as she struggled to get out of his steely cage.

"Put me down or I'll transmute your precious screwdrivers into a giant sword and stab you with it!"

To her great relief, Black Star let her go. "Psh, as if your midget ass could reach the top shelf."

Her relief was short-lived, alas, because Black Star shifted his whole attention to an awkward Soul, making that aggravating mad grin.

"What's this, dear sister?" Black Star said, still in his mocking disappointed-big-brother voice, "You didn't come home for weeks, and not even a single phone call, and now you bring home a boy-toy? I'm ashamed of you, young lady!"

"Wh—he's not my—Black Star!"

Soul didn't help a little bit by leaning in and whispered innocently, "What's a boy-toy?"

Maka couldn't help the aggressive hiss nor the sharp jab to his ribs. Soul cursed as he rubbed his chest, confused—and offended—by her reaction. Black Star added fuel to the fire by gasping, "What a rude way to treat your joystick!"

"Star, I swear to god—"

"Still no?" the engineer didn't seem bothered in the slightest bit, shrugging in an exaggerated display of disappointment. "Just plain boyfriend, then."

An edition of Helmont Theory of Biological Alchemy crashed into Black Star's skull without warning. Maka retreated her weapon back into her bag with reddening cheeks.

Seeing her violent reaction seemed to detain Soul from asking another question, which was good. She didn't think she could handle explaining to Soul what Black Star meant with 'joystick'.

"Geez, did you lift every piece of the rubble in Death City? Your chop is getting meaner!" The loud engineer stood again while grabbing his dented skull. Of course. If a single Maka-Chop could make him stay dead, then Maka wouldn't have so many problems throughout her entire childhood.

"You asked for it!" she sneered, still didn't dare peek at Soul. "And for your information, I called _your wife_ every few days for the past two weeks!"

The eye-roll and grin Black Star sported made her fume. He knew. He just couldn't pass up the opportunity to mess with her. Like always.

"Anyway, Black Star, Maka's brother," Black Star picked himself up and extended his hand to the Ishvalan boy.

"…Soul." He took it, hesitant, but then blurted confusedly as if couldn't stop himself, "I didn't know Mrs. Kamiko had a son?"

Black Star and Maka exchanged a glance, but her pseudo-brother took it pretty coolly, grinning. "Blood ties don't define family."

Soul's eyes widened at those words, but before he could reply, there were footsteps echoing from upstairs. Their commotion apparently had woken Tsubaki up. The pregnant woman ran straight to Maka with both arms open, nearly crying.

"Maka-chan!" Tsubaki wailed. "Thank god you're finally back! I was so worried!"

Maka laughed weakly into Tsubaki's shoulder and patted her back, wondering if her bones had cracked from the amount of crushing they had received in the last ten minutes. Why did people love to hug her so much? She refused to acknowledge Papa's opinion that she was cute and cuddly.

Thankfully Tsubaki decided it was enough smothering for the day and shifted her gaze to her companion. "Oh, is this Soul?"

Soul looked ready to run, uncomfortable being the center of attention, but Maka grabbed his arm and yanked him closer. Blair assisted her by jumping down and pawing his leg forward.

"Yep!"

Tsubaki scrutinized him from head to toe before fixing her eyes to his. Maka somehow felt as if her parents were judging a boyfriend she brought home, which, in a sense, was partially right.

No, no, no. She certainly wasn't bringing a boyfriend and the couple were certainly not her parents.

Soul flinched away from the older woman's gaze, unconsciously leaned towards Maka. Tsubaki finally decided she was satisfied with her observation, but unfortunately, she chose to comment right away, "Wow! Your eyes are really as pretty as Maka-chan said they were!"

Maka's voice climbed two octaves higher, "Wh—Tsubaki-chan! I never said anything like that!"

Perhaps.

Black Star made an interested noise, and Tsubaki's eyes sparkled with something similar to mischief as she countered Maka's sputtering denials. "No, no, no, I remember clearly, you said he has pretty eyes at least twice, also you said he has a melodious voice when you called me from Dublith, also he has a cute—"

"AAAAAAHHH!" Maka clapped her hands on Tsubaki's mouth before she could pulverize her dignity any further. Dammit, she didn't know if her ears were producing smoke from the sheer temperature of her blush.

There was a low whistle from behind her. "So you did bring home a boy-toy!" Then there was a mock sob. "Our little Maka has grown!"

Maka threw Black Star a beautiful series of expertly-worded curses, making Soul gape at how colorful her vocabulary was. Oh yeah, she rarely cursed in front of him. Well, not with the heavy tiers, anyway.

For the record, she_ never ever _said anything like that about Soul. Tsubaki was obviously making it up.

Maybe.

Maka grumbled to herself. It was just that when she started to see Soul as just himself, she found it was so easy to forget who he really was. He was just a kind (and sometimes irritating) Ishvalan boy with a pure soul. It was disturbingly effortless to forget the real reason behind their current companionship.

It was easy to forget that he was a weapon possibly created by her Mama.

Swallowing the ill thought, Maka mumbled to Tsubaki in Xingese, "By the way, Papa's not home, is he?"

"No. He's in East City. Kilik mentioned something about an investigation with Major Yumi last week."

Maka exhaled. "Oh, thank god…"

Black Star, who couldn't pronounce any Xingese for the life of him but understood a couple of words due to growing up with it spoken around him, said, "Are you worrying about old man Spirit making your boyfriend his new shooting target?"

"He's not my—!"

"Now, now, we can catch up more over dinner!" Tsubaki said hastily, breaking their banter, "I'm sure Sid and Myra would love to meet Soul too!"

Maka huffed, but her expression softened as she caught Soul's uncomfortable wince. She smiled encouragingly, and he replied with a grin, even if it was still a little strained. They walked inside to the private part of Barrett's residence, following the married couple.

Their meal was pleasant, all in all, if Maka ignored Black Star's obnoxious teasing and Tsubaki's sparkling eyes whenever she did as much as steal a glance at Soul. Sid and Myra, luckily, were a more normal couple than their children, and they treated Soul casually, making him feel calm enough to relax and actually enjoy himself.

The absence of her Papa made her confident enough to sleep in her own house. Papa was a wealthy nobleman, considering how many residences he owned. But instead of the other fancy manors Papa owned in the bigger cities, Mama had chosen this one as their residence. While the house Maka now owned was Albarn family's smallest one, it was the most beautiful.

Maka cheerfully showed Soul around the house. He actually gawked when they arrived to his room. Maybe because the grandest place he had slept in was BJ's old inn, or maybe it was just the queen-sized bed he stared at with sparkles in his eyes.

She did not realize the implication that giving him a private room meant he was really going to permanently stay with her instead of being temporary travel buddy like she thought he was.

Maka was about to bid him good night when he suddenly blurted with a mischievous grin. "Are my eyes really that pretty?"

She responded by kicking his foot and stomping away to her own room, the chiming of Blair's pumpkin collar followed her.

She would never tell him that the answer was _yes._

* * *

They spent the next two months travelling all around Amestris, and Soul was beginning to really like his current life as Maka's travel buddy slash bodyguard.

Of course, knowing the location of a lab didn't guarantee that they would find a document or anything alchemy-related in it. So far, they only uncovered one new finding after Rashville. Maka was getting frustrated, wanting to go all the way, but the Reaper Colonel made her promise to go back to Gallows Hill whenever she finished fine-combing a location. Good decision, Soul thought, because he wasn't sure Maka was going to rest otherwise.

Besides, it was nice knowing they had a place to call home.

Soul still hadn't had the chance to meet Maka's father. She always talked about him in such a repulsed manner whenever Soul tried to ask, which was intriguing him to no end. Wasn't a child supposed to love their parents?

Her other family, though, he could understand better. He even started to feel relaxed enough with Sid and Myra, who apparently were the ones who had raised Maka after Mrs. Kamiko had passed away. Maka's Xingese friend Tsubaki was even more like her mother, always taking care of her and helping her around the house.

But it was her brother Black Star that he didn't get.

The guy was loud, obnoxious, and overflowed with energy. He always treated Soul casually, but only when Maka was also in the room. Without her around, Soul could feel that Black Star was somehow trying to keep his distance from him. It was the complete opposite of what Maka had told him; that her brother was a very annoying person with no concept of personal space.

Well, it wasn't like he was bothered by it, Soul decided as he stared at Barrett's automail shop from Maka's patio. The less he had to socialize the better.

"Yo, Evans!"

Soul turned a second too late (he was still trying to get used to his new name). It was the Major with the dreadlocks, Kilik Rung, who had called him. Soul nodded instead of answering, watching warily as the soldier strolled through Maka's garden.

"Is your partner home? I have news for her." Soul nodded again, jerking his thumb to the second floor window where Maka's library was. The Major shook his head, "C'mon, man, it won't kill you to speak a little!" Soul rolled his eyes, but still didn't open his mouth.

It was nothing personal, really. It was just that Soul always found it difficult to speak to other humans without him coming off as rude or just plain hostile (something about his tone and grumpy features, Maka said), so he often opted for silence when Maka wasn't there to help filter his words. Especially if he liked the other person enough.

Major Rung, who was always insisting to be called 'Kilik', often dropped by to see Maka's progress whenever the Reaper Colonel couldn't make it, which was becoming more often these days, something Soul was thankful for. He liked Kilik far more, even after knowing that he was also a State Alchemist in addition of being a soldier on active duty. The Major just had this easygoing and friendly air that let other people easily sense his honest nature and be at ease.

Soul led the Major to Maka's book nest, where he knew she was, still diligently studying the circle they found in Rashville. To his surprise, they found her staring at Northern Province map instead. Maka's greeting to Kilik and their subsequent discussion went over Soul's head as he proceeded to read a book about music he had been enjoying lately. He wouldn't understand a thing even if he listened to their alchemical rambling anyway.

But he found himself being pulled into their conversation when he caught an intriguing word: Briggs.

"We're going there?"

Maka froze mid-sentence as if she had just remembered that he was also in the room. She sneaked a glance while pursing her lips, looked like contemplating something.

"No. _I_'_m _going there."

"Not a chance!" Soul instantaneously protested, "I'm _going_ with you!"

"It is too dangerous for you, Soul! It's perfectly in the middle of military ground!" she yelled, "Kilik just said that Ford found old erased files about odd alchemy activities on Briggs mountains. _Briggs mountains, Soul!_ It's a restricted military area! I can get in with my Pocket Watch, but you're a civilian! Not even a legal one, I might add! Besides, we're not even sure if Mama was there! I can't take you! No!"

Grinding his teeth, Soul shouted back, "Very touching, Maka, but it only makes me wanna go even more!"

"Listen to me, idiot—"

"No, you listen! There's no way I'll let you to go to that dangerous place without me!"

"You're a civilian—!"

"Actually," Kilik piped in, "There is a way for him to get in."

Both whipped their heads at the man, one of them was hopeful while the other was wary.

"The issue is for him to get in without being questioned, right?"

Maka glared at her fellow alchemist, but begrudgingly nodded. "Yes, and to not have any curious soldiers wondering about what we're up to, preferably."

Soul grunted. He wasn't stupid, he knew that was out of the question if they realized a State Alchemist was taking an Ishvalan to a restricted area. He knew, dammit, but it wouldn't make him back down.

Kilik clicked his metal fingers. "Solved."

Maka quirked her brow, "How?"

"Oh, I know people," the Major just replied airily, waving one of his automail arms.

* * *

Maka was still bulging her eyes at the couple in front of her, her jaw somewhere on the floor.

They were just stepping out of North City's train station when they were greeted by a familiar alchemist trader and her pink-haired girlfriend.

Turned out Kilik's 'way' of getting her and Soul inside Briggs Fort territory was through the niece of the fort's highest command Lieutenant General Tsar Pushka, who was none other than Miss Jacqueline Dupré. Maka sensed that Soul was equally stunned beside her.

"We meet again, Miss… Uhm, I believe I didn't catch your name before?"

"Maka Albarn," Maka took her hand, still stunned, "Uh, thank you for helping us, Miss Jacqueline."

"Ooooh! The second Grigori Alchemist!" her eyes lit up in recognition. "Please, call me Jackie." She gestured to the woman beside her, "And you've met my girlfriend Kim Diehl."

Miss Kim ignored her girlfriend as she scowled at Soul. "Your boyfriend didn't take good care of his hair! I approve the bandanna look but the way he styled it is just inexcusable!"

Well, it was true that his hair was not as fluffy and carefully spiked as when Miss Kim had styled it, mainly because Soul was not that knowledgeable with hair products yet and was often too lazy to do anything more than combing it into its current haphazard style. He had also changed his usual headband with a thick bandanna because of North City's colder climate but—wait a minute—

"He's not my boyfriend!" Maka squealed loudly, avoiding Soul's eyes, which were also darting anywhere but her behind his sunglasses.

"He's not?" Miss Kim slit her eyes at them, incredulous.

Maka cleared her throat and stifled her blush, "He is…"—what should she say anyway? "…my traveling friend, Soul Evans."

"Is he now?" Miss Kim quirked a sly smirk.

"Now, now, Kim," Miss Jacqueline—Jackie—interjected, but her eyes were twinkling with the same mirth as her girlfriend's. Maka squirmed, recalling her behavior in Little Hook, she could see why the couple thought they were dating, giving her none-too-subtle hovering over Soul after his episode. She had a worrying suspicion that these two women liked gossip as much as Tsubaki or Liz.

Thankfully, their ride had arrived, saving them from more embarrassment. Fort Briggs was located even further north than North City, right in the middle of Briggs mountains. Maka was glad she had left Blair home as she felt the air get colder with every passing mile. The cat might have endured Death City's crazy heat just fine, but Maka knew she got extremely lethargic in colder climates.

"So how exactly does this smuggling plan of ours work?" Maka spoke.

"Oh, no, no, it's not smuggling. We'll go through the fort's gate _legally_."

"But that's—"

"I have the privilege of going in and out of the fort without any questions. And of course, that also applies to people I bring with me. Courtesy of my uncle and father," Jackie hissed the last sentence with partial distaste. "Kilik told me you don't want any escorts either, so I'll request for you to be left alone. But you have to remember you still have to be subtle and not to draw any suspicion, Maka. Briggs is known as the strongest stronghold for a reason."

Maka nodded, it wasn't like she was planning to do something illegal, but the possibility of Mama doing research within a deadly force-authorized territory was bugging her. It was obvious that whatever it was wasn't meant to be published, so she couldn't help but to be extra discreet and avoid as little military intervention as possible.

A snort came from her side. She glanced at a grumpy Soul. He was obviously disliking this clear abuse of power, but she knew he couldn't afford to voice his thoughts since it actually worked in their favor.

Jackie explained further about her connection to the northern military as the car they rode ran steadily through icy roads. Apparently she was also the daughter of North City's mayor, Colonel Felix Dupré. But Jackie herself hated her family's nepotism within Northern HQ ranks, and wanted to free herself from the obligation to serve the Führer. It didn't stop her family from trying to sway her into joining military by giving her free access to the fort, however, as she was a talented alchemist, and a State Alchemist within the family would surely strengthen their dynasty.

But then it was clear to Maka that the couple's dislike of nepotism didn't necessarily mean they had a strict law-abiding sense either, because Jackie had said a bit too casually that she'd been using the access to do some 'side business'. Her deduction strengthened when Kim let slip that the business they'd been taking care of involved firearms trading. Part of her wondered if the couple was one of Sid's anonymous suppliers. The world was small, after all.

"So how come you are friends with Kilik?" Maka asked, deciding that it was best to not poke around their side business. "You didn't go to military academy, right?"

"Oh, we studied under the same alchemy professor."

Small world indeed.

* * *

_Pride_ looked at the detailed map of Northern Province with concealed distaste.

So this was where that woman had hidden her greatest research. The wench even implied that she had slipped _her_ secret there too. The audacity.

The latest report said the little Grigori was making her way to Briggs. It wouldn't do. _Pride_ needed the little Grigori to be as far away as possible, at least until _she_ destroyed the wench's papers and finished with preparations. Or should _she_ lock her up here instead? She couldn't cause trouble if she was imprisoned. Yes. Good plan.

Then there was also the problem at Eastern HQ. The little Reaper had actually started to snoop around _her_ business. _She_ had never given the little Reaper any attention before, because he was not a threat to _her_, but that would surely change if he kept sticking his nose into inappropriate places.

_Pride_'s eyes narrowed with disgust. She called for her _children_ without so much as lifting her eyes from the map, "_Wrath_. _Gluttony_."

Two figures presented themselves silently, obediently awaiting orders. Ah, how satisfying it was to have _them_ bending to _her_ will so easily.

"Take care of things at Briggs. Bring little Grigori to me."

_Gluttony _tilted _his_ head, "What about the other one? The Ishvalan boy?"

"Do as you please. Eat him for all I care."

* * *

Soul's paranoia level was getting pretty high.

It was not because they were travelling within Amestris's strongest military stronghold. Well, that too. But he just couldn't shake a vague feeling that something was going to go wrong.

They bid Jacqueline and Kim goodbye as they went their separate ways. They had successfully passed Briggs's gate without any problem, Jackie had introduced them as her 'guests', which ensured that they would be left alone without actually needing to flaunt Maka's Silver Pocket Watch. The couple continued their travel to the fort while Soul and Maka hunted for the location of Mrs. Kamiko's lab, if it was really there. They had agreed to meet in three days, though; it was the extent of what Jackie could afford them without alarming anyone.

He tugged the pigtail of the shuddering girl beside him.

"You okay?"

She hummed a response before squatting down to touch the snow. Only after months of travelling with her did Soul understand that the action actually meant she was sensing what she dubbed as the earth's 'dragon path' to search for unusual flow of alchemical energy.

The girl was shuddering again as she looked behind her shoulder. There was no one in the snow field except them, of course. But Maka would know if there was a soldier hiding due to her weird perception ability. She didn't say anything to indicate an incoming threat, but her movements were nervous and guarded.

Following her steps, Soul wondered if she also felt the same paranoia.

* * *

On day one, the dragon path had led Maka to the ghost town of Baschool, where she eventually found a promising clue under the abandoned city lab.

It puzzled her to no end. She expected the search to be more complex and time-consuming, considering this was located inside military territory. She definitely was not expecting Mama to hide in plain sight like this. Frowning, Maka couldn't decide if it was the best or the worst place one could build a secret lab.

But finding something consequential was a different task entirely. No one would expect an alchemist to stack their research notes on a table in the middle of their lab. In fact, it was not necessarily recorded on paper. They had no clue what they should be looking for, so their only choice was to peel their eyes open and scrutinize every surface for any abnormalities.

So that was what she had been doing for the past three days, warily inspecting the place inch by inch with Soul following close behind her. He had been unusually antsy since they passed Briggs gate; the nervousness was clear on his face, deepening her own anxiety. She couldn't shake the feeling that something would go terribly wrong.

Swallowing the uncomfortable thoughts, Maka stepped further into the dusty facility. To her dismay, she found absolutely nothing. The place was completely empty. There was no alchemical residue or texture… save for one negligible wall.

Maka tapped the wall curiously. A secret passage? She wasted no time before transmuting a door. Like she'd thought, there was a stone stairway down from where the door opened. Exchanging nervous glances with Soul, Maka took his hand and warily started to climb down.

Walking through the dark passage was a bit daunting, especially when the stairs gave way to a straight tunnel. Time felt like a surreal concept the longer they walked through the passage. The air was thick and the darkness caused an intimidating sense of claustrophobia. The only thing keeping her from going insane was the firm reassurance of Soul's hand, and by the way he squeezed hers, it seemed like he felt the same.

When it was her and Tsubaki (or Black Star, sometimes), it was always them walking in front of her like a protective mother hen covering their chicklet, something she never gave any thought to until she started traveling with Soul. With him, they always walked side-by-side, sometimes with fingers linked.

It felt nice.

They stopped when the tunnel branched. The left one was identical to the former tunnel, if not a little bit smaller, but the right one was closed off by a crooked pair of steel doors, with a large X painted on it. The dried red paint made it look like it was painted with blood. Maka felt goosebumps run down her spine. She was by no means a cowardly girl, but her subconscious told her there was something very dangerous behind those doors, and Maka gladly followed her instinct to take the other path.

Without sound, they walked through the left tunnel, trying to not think about the creepy sealed doors too much. It was five minutes later—or maybe an hour, who knew—that the tunnel started to go uphill.

They climbed and climbed and climbed, until a slit of light appeared in front of them. Maka hurried to it, transmuting an exit door hastily, very eager to leave the tunnel.

"Where are we?" Soul croaked, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the overwhelming light after being in the dark tunnel for so long.

Maka, thinking that this venture was getting more and more bizarre, replied, "Dunno. Looks like an old dance hall or something?"

The room they stepped into was full with dusty furniture and broken glass, and what appeared to be an ancient piano was standing hauntingly in the middle of the room. The floor under their feet was patterned in red and black checkerboard. Dusty red velvet curtains full of spider webs framed the glassless windows.

Their current task of searching for Mama's records was completely forgotten as she wondered why an eerily odd dance hall like this had been built in the middle of a mining town. An abandoned military mining town, to be exact.

Was it Mama who build this—this place? Why? What for? If it was meant to disguise the lab it would work no better than putting a glowing sign with 'Treasure inside!' written on it outside the building.

But when she braced herself to peek from one of the glassless windows, they were not in Baschool anymore, though the ghost town could still be seen dozen miles away. She should've figured, they had walked inside the tunnel for hours. A chill ran down her spine again and she felt the odd urge to duck her head and get away from the windows. Something in the air was not right.

A broken piano note rang terrifyingly loud, making her squeak. Spinning her head wildly, she saw a sheepish Soul with a finger on the piano.

"_What are you doing, idiot?!_" Maka fumed. She certainly wasn't going to say that he had scared her witless. She was by no means a cowardly girl.

"Sorry," he winced, the hand that was touching the piano flew to the back of his neck. "I was just—the place looks familiar… somehow…"

Distracted, Maka padded to him with a frown, "Familiar how?"

"Dunno," he shrugged, glancing to the broken instrument in front of them. "I just felt like I have seen a room like this. Piano and all." Then he frowned, cursing lowly to himself, as if annoyed with his own brain.

Intriguing.

Maka tentatively sat down on the piano bench, inspecting the ivory keys carefully. Her instincts told her that whatever she was searching for had something to do with this instrument. Sliding her gloved fingers atop the keys, Maka closed her eyes.

Oh! Keys!

_Keys!_

Her eyes widened with excitement. It was the _key_! But her hope deflated as quickly as it emerged, when she remembered she knew next to nothing about piano, or music in general. Not knowing what she was doing (and feeling a little dumb), she pressed a random note.

"Oh, that's a G."

Maka whipped her head at her companion. "You know how to play piano?"

"Heavens, no," he gave a slightly dark chuckle. "Raised in a lab, remember? I just happen to have read your music books, which were the only things worth a read in your ridiculous book nest."

"Oh," she replied dumbly, completely missing his implied jibe. She had forgotten that Papa collected those kinds of books too. They never got Maka's attention, because she deemed them irrelevant for her goal to become a State Alchemist.

And maybe, her traitorous little heart jabbed, because music kind of made her remember the times she had lost; when things were different, when Papa used to play piano for Mama, with her dancing merrily around their living room.

Dismissing the thought, Maka pressed the G note again. There were very subtle vibrations coming from the instrument, which she had missed the first time. Tilting her head in wonder, Maka pressed it again.

G.

"Is there something about that note?" Soul asked, maybe because she kept pressing the note with a face full of concentration.

G.

Grigori.

Could it be?

"Soul, do you know the G… uh, what's the word? The G… the G-chord?"

Soul blinked, clearly confused with whatever she was up to, "Yeah?"

"Can you play it?"

He quirked his brow, but complied. Maka shifted a bit as the boy leaned down to press three keys; G, B, and D, not that she knew enough to tell which was which. A tingling sensation of alchemical electricity ran past her feet, and almost at the same time, a loud thud echoed.

Both jumped at the noise, Soul instantly placed himself between her and the startling thing, one arm held over her protectively. To their relief, it was just a dusty table. Maka nudged him forward to inspect the fallen piece of furniture closer. It was just an ordinary round table, at first glance, but its gorgeous carving became more and more intriguing the longer she stared. It might appear a mere ornate surface to untrained eyes, but she recognized a few alkahestry symbols.

"Hey, there's numbers here, are these important?" Soul's voice called from the other side.

Maka stepped to him, scrutinizing the complex carvings. Yes, there were numbers. She immediately pulled her notebook out to list all the visible numbers.

88\. 16. 1. 23. 53. 57.

What did they mean?

Maka abused her brain, thinking in miles per second. Think, think, think. She glared holes to the floor, while Soul tilted his head curiously at the fallen table, inspecting a Z-shaped carving at the center of the round table.

Wait—table… numbers… Z…

Z—in the middle of a circle… _Zahl?_

Oh!

Maka was sure she heard her brain click. Her eyes were completely round. "Soul, you're genius!"

He blurted, "Huh?" But Maka ignored him, squealing in thrill and scrawling hastily.

Table, numbers, and _zahl_—proton.

Periodic table, and _atomic numbers_.

88\. 16. 1. 23. 53. 57.

Radium. Sulfur. Hydrogen. Vanadium. Iodine. Lanthanum.

Ra-S-H-V-I-La—_Rashville?!_

Maka nearly dropped her notebook in shock. Seemed like she had been chosen as Lady Luck's favorite daughter without her knowing. She vaguely heard Soul call her name and felt him tug at one of her pigtails, but she still ignored him, rapidly flipping her notebook to the page where she documented the circle from Rashville.

It was a good thing she had been diligently studying and breaking the circle down to its basic parts. It was easy to see which elements constructed the alchemical array. She had been excited to learn that this circle also had alkahestry combined in it, having a 'path' twirling from inside out; which was why Maka knew how to arrange the elements into one specific order:

Beryllium. Helium. Molybdenum. Boron. Gadolinium.

Smirking, she started to convert them into their atomic numbers.

4-2-42-5-64

But her triumph was short-lived. What now? What did those numbers mean? Had she missed something? A second hint?

She was grumbling to her Rashville-circle drawing when Soul leaned to her and casually piped in, "Interesting. Those numbers can be piano notes too."

"What?!" Maka nearly gave herself a whiplash from turning too fast. "_Seriously?!_ You can change numbers into notes?!"

He rolled his eyes, "It's weird for me to say this, but that's supposed to be common knowledge, Maka."

Maka felt her cheeks heat. It was not her fault she wasn't interested in music, dammit! She hid her embarrassment by scowling at the boy and dragging him by his collar to the broken piano. Soul stumbled behind her, yelling for her to stop with the violence. Ignoring his grumbling, she pointed at the instrument. Soul complied begrudgingly, taking a second to convert the numbers into the keys before pressing F-D-F-D-G-A-F in order.

The piano vibrated, as if there were gears turning inside it. Both of them watched in bewilderment as the instrument's lid slowly opened without any human assistance.

"Whoa… cool!" Soul stole Maka's words.

Nodding unconsciously, she circled the open instrument and peeked inside it. There were strange machines and gears there, which might be the cause of the piano keys not making a proper sound. But there, deep within the metal forest and layers of piano strings, was a small music box.

Standing on her toes, she reached carefully for it. But it was unfortunate that she hadn't inherited her Papa's height, for the piano was concert-sized and the box was twisted in the most awkward angle imaginable, leaving her to flail wildly without so much as touching the damn box. Fortunately, her travel buddy had the limb length to make it, but she had to endure a maddening blush and he had to struggle keeping his snickers to himself if he didn't want his shin to be kicked. Within a minute, she was already cradling the music box and Soul's snickers had been replaced with muttered curses (yes, he hadn't had such a big success).

The little thing was magnificent, full of carvings and paintings of alchemical symbols.

Maka cheerily transmuted a fluffy wrap from one of the velvet curtains, gently wrapped the music box, and placed it cautiously inside her bag. Soul closed the piano lid, still grumbling about tiny alchemists and unnecessary violence. She was about to say something when, for the third time that day, a chill ran down her spine, her soul perception suddenly going into high alert.

Something really was wrong.

Seeing her sudden stillness, Soul also shifted into his defensive mode, hurrying to her side with one arm ready to transmute at any moment.

Their horrible foreboding presented itself as two disturbing soul responses behind them.

But saying that they were two soul responses was not quite right.

It was similar to Soul's double-soul, but theirs were tainted, a lot more sinister and contained more than a hundred other souls. The Ishvalan boy's _other_ soul was twisted and dangerous, yes, but it was still… humanly sane, somehow. These people's souls, however, were drowning in a storm of sorrows, desperate cries and horrifying fears. Maka shivered violently; she wanted to throw up.

Soul appeared to sense danger the instant he caught sight of her stiffened face. He spun to face their guests while throwing his blade-arm in front of her protectively, jaw set and eyes darkened.

The two strangers couldn't be any more different. One of them was very skinny, with pinkish hair and a sickly complexion. The other one was the walking definition of muscle, with dark skin and strange X mark on his face. When the one with pink hair shifted, Maka could see a strange tattoo on their upper arm; a snake biting its own tail, Ouroboros.

Her mind flew to a certain copy of ancient alchemical document in her library; _The Chrysopoeia of Cleopatra_ [2]. Ouroboros was the analogy of the essence of alchemy; _all is one, one is all_. And it was representing the transmigration of souls, which was linked to the supposed creation of Philosopher's Stone.

She thought of all the sickening souls inside of them. What a horrid taste.

"Oh, I know why they call her Grigori! She has the same smell!" the beefy one barked in delight. "Hey, Crona, do you think she'll taste the same?"

Wha—

"Oh, shut up, Ragnarok! Your voice is so irritating!" the other one replied with annoyance.

"You shut up!"

"Who are you?!" Maka shouted bravely, even if her pitch was higher than she intended. "What do you want?"

Both strangers stopped their banters to stare at her. She gulped. Dammit, she was by no means a cowardly girl!

"You're so annoying," drawled the skinny one, "I don't know how to deal with annoying girls!"

"Stupid! We've already decided to kill them, haven't we?" the beefy one bellowed. A growl was heard from Soul as he instinctively moved closer to her.

"That's not what _Pride_ told us!"

"_She_ didn't say anything about bringing the goods _alive_!"

Gritting her teeth, Maka had a very sick suspicion that they were talking about them. She was a formidable fighter and Soul was definitely not an easy kill, but these strangers had something that made her alchemist senses screaming in alert.

Still, the more frightened she felt, the angrier she became. And the angrier she became, the more reckless she behaved. She glared at the bantering strangers, who were still quarrelling like they were invisible to them. Maka Albarn wasn't one to take it lightly on being ignored, so instead of quietly slipping away like a sane people would, she snapped at them without bothering to lower her volume, "I said, who are you?!"

Soul hissed his disappointment at her admittedly unwise move, but she was angry—not scared, dammit! —so she hissed back.

Both strangers whipped their heads at her, furious to be interrupted in the middle of their own fighting. "Okay, okay! I'll speak! Just shut up, will you?" the skinny one clicked their tongue.

"I am Crona, the _Wrath_. And this is Ragnarok, the _Gluttony_. We're here for a cleaning job."

* * *

He had been paranoid since the start of this journey.

He had been. But he never imagined they would meet these people.

His blood knew before his brain did, recognizing the similarity they shared deep in their souls.

They were the same as that one woman who lorded over the State Alchemists before Mrs. Kamiko came into his life. Their pulsing souls, so wickedly violent and cruel, were the same as _that woman's_. His blood gurgled as his Demon hissed in excitement, forcing him to grit his teeth.

_'Good, good. There will be blood!'_

Soul suppressed a shiver. It was not lost to him that the Demon didn't care whose blood it'd be.

Maka's unwise move doubled his already spiked anxiety. He wasn't one to run from a fight, but somehow he sensed that fighting these people—_these creatures_—wouldn't be the right decision. His blood whispered that they were facing enemies they probably couldn't defeat.

"I am Crona, the _Wrath_. And this is Ragnarok, the _Gluttony_. We're here for a cleaning job."

The skinny one's words were completely calm compared to the violence of their next move. In a blur of pink and black, the Wrath thundered forward at the girl behind him. His blade blocked the attack ten centimeters before Maka's face, snapping her back to high alert and assuming a fighting stance.

In a wide slash, Soul launched the Wrath back to a wall, breaking it to bits. His Demon giggling happily. He ignored him. His eyes were still red.

"You okay, Maka?" he snarled without turning back.

"Y-yeah. Worry about yourself!" her startled answer reached him, pitch still higher than normal. "I'll take the pinky—Wrath, whatever, you take care of the beefy one!"

Despite the situation, Soul found himself smirking, blood itching to be given a task to kill.

Shit. That wasn't good. She didn't say anything about killing.

"Aaaah, you can turn your flesh into blades… I don't know how to deal with flesh turning into blades…" the Wrath drawled from their pile of rubble, voice a shade away from insane. There were red sparks of electricity on the arm Soul had cut. "You make me so irritated, you know? Your blade… your blade!" Horrified, both he and Maka watched the Wrath's injuries closing up via an unmistakably alchemical process, leaving no trail of any scar as if the fifteen centimeters cut hadn't been there at all.

_Impossible._

Wrath lunged at him with a deranged cry. Soul was still too shocked by the sheer impossibility of Wrath's healing, but Maka was quick enough to form a defensive wall. The Wrath shouted angrily and shifted to attacking the girl. Soul watched her form a lance to defend herself, but his attention was snatched right away because the beefy one had nearly chopped his head off. Soul cursed. It wasn't the time to get spaced out.

The Gluttony laughed maniacally again. "Hey, do you know that I'm allowed to eat you, tiny freak?"

_'Let him! Let him! Then while he's fixated on your flesh you can stab him to your heart's content!'_

_'Shut the fuck up!'_

Soul gritted his teeth, trying his best to keep his eyes red.

But keeping his insanity at bay was a hard task when the enemy he faced was far more violent and feral than he had anticipated. He had no time to stop. Heck, he didn't even have time to breathe. Gluttony's attacks might be simple and predictable, but his strength and power made a single blow terrifyingly deadly.

Soul was sure he'd cracked a rib and his left ankle was probably sprained, but he went on. If he stopped, he would die.

The Demon's giggling stole a second of his concentration, which resulted in Gluttony biting his left blade-arm. A sharp growl left his chest as Gluttony trapped his whole left arm. Fuck. A single squeeze and his bones would shatter like twigs. He didn't have time to think, his bitten blade was starting to _crack_.

Out of pure instinct, Soul transmuted his leg and beheaded Gluttony with one lightning-speed kick.

_'Oooooh, good show, boy! Good show!'_

_'I told you to shut up, you disgusting gremlin!'_

Wheezing, he detached Gluttony's head from his blade-arm. That was seriously creepy. He slowly transmuted the blade back into flesh, wincing nauseously. Thank god, Mrs. Kamiko made it so that damage sustained on his blade-form wouldn't affect his actual human body; as it was just a metal, inanimate object, not living cells and tissue. Still, he didn't dare think about what would happen if his blade actually shattered. He had more important things to worry about.

Maka was still fighting ferociously against Wrath. He immediately dashed to them, arm transmuted into newly-forged blade.

"Maka!"

"Soul! Behind you!"

"Wha—"

A punch sent him crashing harshly to the floor. Oxygen left his lungs from the sheer power of the blow. He gasped, not entirely understanding what had happened.

"Soul!"

He crawled back up to see _Gluttony_ standing in front of him, mad grin splitting his face ear-to-ear.

_What the fuck had happened?!_

"I—" he rasped, _"I killed you!"_

Wrath stopped their attacks on Maka to sneer at him with disgust. "What could possibly ever make you think that a rotten imitation like you could kill us? Irritating!"

A pair of tiny shaking arms were wrapped around Soul, helping him stand. "Th-they can't die?" Maka's voice squawked beside him. "How?!"

"I killed you!" repeated Soul, still unable to believe that Gluttony was standing without any injuries—_or even blood—_in front of them after being _beheaded_.

Gluttony and Wrath weren't so nice as to give them time to be shocked. Both immortals leaped at them from two directions. Soul shoved Maka out of the way while blocking Gluttony's blow with a kick, but he missed Wrath's attack, feeling their punch connecting to his gut excruciatingly as both of them flew a dozen meters from their impact point.

Coughing up blood, he kicked Wrath away. His struggle to stand halted altogether when Maka's sharp scream cut the air. He whipped his head wildly to search for her.

_Please, no, no, no!_

His eyes found her struggling to get out of Gluttony's muscly cage, right when the foreboding feeling he had had since the start of this journey snapped into one conclusion:

_They wanted Maka._

They always tried to separate her from him, though he didn't feel any form of killing intent when they attacked her. They actually aimed to knock her unconscious or at least disarm her. But it was different with him, there wasn't the slightest sign of restraint. They attacked to kill. He swallowed hard. That could only mean one thing; _they were fighting to take Maka away, and he was an unwanted obstacle._

Maka shrieked when Gluttony's filthy tongue licked the blood on her cheek.

There was a giggle inside his brain.

A switch was flipped.

_'It's showtime!'_

His eyes were black.

In a second, he was already gripping Gluttony's arms and crushing them like glass. There was a feminine voice shouting, but he couldn't hear the words nor cared enough to listen.

His mind completely erased everything that was irrelevant to killing the enemy. He was a weapon, and he existed to kill. He wasn't allowed to feel fear or any other emotion whatsoever.

Old instinct kicked in, cutting the ties between his pain tolerance meter and his brain, transferring it to strengthen his five senses instead.

Gluttony was back on his feet, arms healed, and barking something Soul couldn't bring himself to care. Irrelevant. His sole purpose was to kill the enemy in front of him, nothing more, nothing less.

If the creature couldn't die, then he would kill it until it stayed dead.

Both of his arms were blades. He knew he wouldn't have any chance of survival if he stopped attacking.

Kick. Spin. Left punch. Stab. Kick. Slice. Slice. Slice. Punch.

How satisfying.

He lunged forward and slammed his body to Gluttony's back, producing a twin blade from his torso that stabbed right through the creature's body.

Screaming in pain, Gluttony tried to crush him in a death grip, but he was faster. His scythe arms sliced Gluttony's claws as he kicked backwards to launch himself out of the immortal's attack range.

"SOUL! LOOK OUT!"

His eyes were red.

Her voice brought him back, conveniently right before the world collapsed all around him.

* * *

There was something wrong with Soul.

Maka's breath caught in her throat. He didn't even respond to her yells, lunging blindly to the Gluttony while dodging the creature's attacks with sharp movements.

_What was he doing?!_

_Did he even understand that his enemy was basically immortal?_

His movements were precise and powerful, but he definitely didn't care about injuries the slightest bit.

The most worrying thing, however, was that his souls had switched. The artificial part was now dominating, tainting his otherwise blue soul to pure black.

Maka watched in bewilderment as the Ishvalan boy continued to slice Ragnarok with each blade produced from his body. He actually fought evenly with the giant immortal. No. _He was besting him_.

Unfortunately, she was in no position to be distracted.

She paid the price for neglecting her own fight when Crona's punch met her gut and sent her flying an impressive length away. Coughing blood, her feet wobbled as she tried to stand.

"Aaah, are you ignoring me? How dare you ignore me! I don't know what to do about people who ignore me, but it makes me mad. Mad!" Wrath's eyes followed hers as she stared disbelievingly at their rapidly closing wound. They giggled. "Funny, isn't it? Like magic! Except that it's not. _Human brains just can't understand it yet._"

Something caught in Maka's throat. _Did they just say something she thought they were saying?_

Her mind started to go downhill from there, but she caught herself. No. She couldn't think of Mama yet. She couldn't afford to lose focus.

And she was totally right. Crona's feral attacks were impossible to dodge or even guard against if she didn't give all of her concentration. But miracle tend to happen to those who least expect it, whether it was the good or bad kind. Maka was halfway through activating both her circles when a huge chunk of roof crackled dangerously right above Soul's head. So, like a very experienced alchemist should be doing in the time of crisis, she shoved him out of the way with her alkahestry-gloved hands instead of transmuting a protective wall.

"SOUL, LOOK OUT!"

There was a flash of green angel wings among the thick cover of dust. Maka squinted to make sure the idiot boy was okay.

Only that there was no idiot boy in sight.

There was just a spear. No, not a spear, a _scythe. A vicious, intimidating, two-meter-tall scythe._

Maka choked on her own breath, staring at the grim-reaper-style weapon in her hand. It was a disturbingly beautiful thing, but she had no time to properly admire it. The handle was engraved with so many alchemical symbols, arrays, and circles. Its blade was long, very long, with strange words in ancient alphabets carved on both sides. The weapon was jet black, save for the bottom half of the blade, which was glinting with red. Deep red. Like a certain pair of eyes.

Soul's eyes.

"Soul?!"

_"What the fuck?!" _a deep voice came from the weapon, the very same voice her dear stupid friend had.

"That's _my_ line!" Maka yelled back at the blade like an idiot.

It's not the shape that matters, it's the soul that's important, _yes_, but how was she supposed to ignore this kind of shape?!

Their banter was rudely interrupted by two alarmingly vivid presences Maka felt from each side. Without thinking, she swung the scythe—which very much likely was Soul—to guard against two incoming attacks. It—he—was heavy, but Maka didn't endure ridiculously heavy combat training with Professor Stein for nothing. Her technique was top notch. Unfortunately, the weapon was considerably taller than her and she was more used to lances, so she couldn't help the occasional clangs when the blade crashed into something.

_"Hey, do this properly, will ya?!"_

"I'm trying my best here, thank you very much!"

Her adrenaline amount was bordering the impossible level, apparently, because she realized something impressive was happening with her perception. Even among the thick fog of dust, she could feel her enemies' exact moves and pinpoint their location with incredible accuracy.

Her usual level was good enough, but usually she just felt the souls' general directions, not knowing exactly where each of their limbs were like she did now. She could even feel every material around her, as if her perception was picking up the buzzing electrons of every atom. It was like her alkahestry wasn't only guiding her through the dragon path, but also illuminating everything along the road.

Fascinated, her concentration swayed a bit as Ragnarok's attack missed her neck by a hair. She couldn't be horrified nor rejoice, because Crona's strike came right after. Panicking, Maka was torn in a heartbeat decision between transmuting a defensive wall or swinging Soul to block the attack. Her body, however, dumbly chose to combine both. She blocked Crona's punch with Soul's handle while activating her transmutation circle. Her miscalculation of Soul's length caused his blade to crash harshly at the floor, followed by a loud ring of his curses.

Transmutation sounds followed the sparks of bright green angel wings. In the next second, Crona was sent flying a dozen meters away, impaled by several red and black spiky pillars formed up from the floor.

Indeed, miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it.

"Wh—" Maka gawked, "What just happened?!"

Because there was no way she just did a transmutation. Her hands were nowhere near the floor. Even if she did, it was the scythe in her hand that was supposed to change its shape.

_"I—I think I just… transfer it?"_ came Soul's unsure reply, and he sounded just as shocked as her.

"What do you mean 'transfer it'?"

_"I don't know!"_ Soul squawked back, _"I just felt this energy coming from you, and before I knew it, it flowed through me into the earth!"_

What the hell?

_"This is all so weird!"_

Oh, was it really?

Maka bit back her sarcasm because Ragnarok sprung towards them with his tongue lolling hungrily, giving her one perfect second to see that there was an Ouroboros tattoo on it. The next second she was flying above the immortal creature and knocked his head with Soul's hilt. Without hesitation, she stabbed Soul's blade onto the earth as she landed ungracefully. Green angel wings sparked as spiky pillars were formed a second time, this time piercing the Gluttony.

There was no time to breathe, indeed. Crona was right behind her the next second, before she could figure exactly when the Wrath had escaped from their own crucifixion.

Missing the chance to guard, Maka was sent crashing to a wall. Soul's yell warned her just in time to dodge Crona's blow. _Bless him_, Maka shuddered; that strike landed exactly where her head had been a moment ago. She used Soul's handle as an anchor to launch herself out of the Wrath's aim while sending a transmutation. The wall in front of Crona blasted in the form of horizontal spikes, impaling them for the second time.

Maka was taking a short breath when suddenly, like a puzzle, everything clicked in the most disturbing way.

Soul's transmutation light was _green_.

He just transferred her transmutation to _a long distance_.

The thing he did was _alkahestry._

There, in her own hand, was the unshakable proof that her Mama was indeed a sinner.

His words from that first night she met him creeped into her ears; _"She was the one who personally transmuted me, Maka."_

Soul was right.

Her occupied mind failed her to register what was really happening around them. She just heard a loud crumble and Soul's horrified voice before a pair of firm arms clutched her body for dear life.

The whole place was collapsing. She lost sense of the immortals in all that chaos, but to be fair, she wasn't paying attention to anything except for the horrible proof of her Mama's sin. The arms were still tightly wrapped around her body as the world turned sideways, but when the loud crumbling noises stopped, she was alone in the thick blanket of dusty rubble.

Maka dared to open her eyes, still not entirely understanding the situation.

"Soul…?"

A wet cough answered her. Unfortunately, her brain was in too much distress to understand the gravity of a wet cough. But thanks to the thinning dust clouds, her eyes finally snapped to a horrifying sight that suddenly punched her back to earth.

Soul was laying under the debris, with an ominous amount of something red pooling around him. It took a few seconds for her to register that it was the metal bar in the middle of his chest that was making the red pool.

Immediately, perhaps as an act of a final denial, her brain pushed everything out of its forefront other than the dying boy in front of her. Like a robot, she mindlessly performed all first aid she knew, thinking only that he would die if she didn't.

Soul gurgled out a handful of blood, choking on his own breath. Maka hissed, she didn't have a choice but to pull out the metal bar and close the wound before he bled to death. Wasting no time, she tapped the crooked metal, transmuting its shape into a straight clean pipe and reduced its length.

"Hold on, Soul. It's gonna be rough!" she mumbled to the gasping boy, holding the pipe firmly and—dear—started pulling it out.

Never had she thought she would hear his voice in this dreadful way.

She couldn't shut her ears against his excruciating screams, but her hands were steady and her eyes were focused. Inch by inch the bar was pulled, accompanied by a haunting amount of blood spurting from his chest and the deafening volume of his cries.

_She knew Soul's screams would haunt her for the rest of her life._

Finally, after the most agonizing minute of her life yet, the bar was pulled out completely, leaving a bloody gash in the middle of his chest. There was no time to celebrate. He wasn't breathing.

"Soul? Soul, stay with me!"

Ignoring the terrifying lack of answer, Maka quickly draw her alkahestry circle around him using his blood. She had never been a religious person, but every fiber of her being was praying to the reaper—if he really existed—to give her time. She couldn't hear anything besides her own heartbeat as she placed both of her hands on the circle.

"Come on, Soul… Come on…"

Both of her hands were cold despite being drenched in warm blood. She couldn't hear the transmutation sounds. Her heartbeat was still too loud.

She nearly cried when he finally gasped awake and started stirring. Fucking thanks the reaper for being late.

"Maka…?" Soul's weak groan reached her ears. He seemed to not completely be aware of everything yet, but a strained smile was forming on his lips when his hazy eyes found her, whispering deliriously, "Good… You're okay…"

Ah, his soul was blue.

Her heart was starting to feel again, but Maka wished it never did, because the devastating thought that she just saved—and had been saved by—Mama's creation was back to the very front of her brain.

Denial was always useless.

How foolish of her.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him or to let herself be openly joyous that he was alive. Her heart felt burnt after the clashing emotions from nearly losing a dear friend and being saved by the living proof of Mama's sin.

Maka had always known, deep inside her heart, that all this time Soul had been painfully right.

Only this time she didn't have anything to help her deny it.

* * *

Footnotes :

[1] : Black project is what they call a country's illegal activities. It doesn't exist on the papers and the citizens are forbidden to know of its very existence. The Black Blood Experiment where Soul and Wes had been a part of is an example of Amestris's black project.

[2] : A single sheet document which contains only symbols, drawings and captions, including an Ouroboros drawing, made by Cleopatra the Alchemist (not to be confused with Cleopatra VII, Queen of Egypt). She experimented with practical alchemy but is also credited as one of the four female alchemists that could produce the Philosopher's stone.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 : A Library Isn't Built For Hiding

* * *

_[Maka has the power to unlock your fullest potential, and you have the power to emphasize hers.]_

_[Your brother will explain everything when the time comes.]_

_Stay with her, you and she will be stronger together._

* * *

Pride glared at her useless children with seething anger.

"It was a simple task! How could you fail?!"

"I'm—I'm sorry, Madam Medusa," Wrath stammered. "But the other one… The Ishvalan man… He is a weapon! The imitation!"

Pride's eyes widened. Well, well, seemed like the task wasn't a complete failure. She had searched for that thing for over ten years, who would have known that the Little Grigori would be the one who would bring it back to her?

What irony.

"Well, whatever. I will spare the both of you this time. Get out," she dismissed Wrath and Gluttony, waving a chimera over. "Eruka, are you finished yet?"

"Everything should be completed two days before the deadline, Medusa."

"Good," she purred. "I think it's time to see how that wench's doing."

A snake made from shadows slithered out of their lair in the direction of Gallows Hill.

* * *

The first creature who greeted her when she stepped into her own room was Blair. And the cat wasn't happy.

Her pet howled nonstop, her tone comparable to a disappointed parent when they found out their daughter had sneaked out in the middle of the night. Shame that Maka didn't have any energy left to contest her cat's accusations. It wasn't like Blair was wrong anyway.

Picking up the cat, she slumped onto the bed. "I'm sorry I didn't bring you this time, Blair, but North Province wasn't a really suitable place for cats."

Blair made a noise that was unnervingly identical to a belittling snort.

"They have bears, Blair. Bears!"

Blair hissed.

Tired, Maka scowled at her pet. "Well, sorry I assumed you can't handle a bear, Your Majesty. Now can I have my sleep in peace?" The cat meowed sharply and gave her one last dirty look before hopping down from the bed, padding sulkily to her own pile of fluff.

Maka buried her face into the pillow. Yes. She needed sleep.

Actually, she needed a coma.

She had to empty her brain and try her best to not let her thoughts wander to a certain injured Ishvalan boy in a certain chamber right under her own bedroom.

Maka sighed. She knew this was a losing battle, so she let her mind replay the events from the past week.

After that confusing fight and that horrid revelation, Maka never actually paid proper attention to anything. She knew that Kilik and Ford, of all people, were the ones who found her dragging a bloody Soul out of the rubble. She also knew that it was Kim and Ford who managed to find an underground doctor for Soul while Kilik and Jackie fabricated a cover story to General Pushka. She knew, but didn't really care, only followed them around on autopilot.

She diligently avoided any questions her friends threw at her about the entire debacle, and more importantly, she diligently avoided Soul, who she knew had been sending her concerned looks and signals of wanting to talk ever since he woke up.

She just couldn't.

Maka vaguely remembered the doctor's comment about how strange Soul's blood was, because his blood apparently had sixty times more iron than a normal human's, without actually showing any signs of hemochromatosis [1]. There was something about supercharged healing as well, but she didn't stay to eavesdrop.

_Of course he had a ridiculous amount of iron_, Maka giggled humorlessly to herself. _He was a scythe._

_A scythe that Mama made._

She had ignored both the Ishvalan boy and the music box for the remainder of the week, hiding herself behind a book until Soul had recovered enough for Kilik to take them back to Gallows Hill.

The music box was now laying on her nightstand, silently witnessing her crying herself to sleep.

* * *

Right under Maka's room, Soul was lying on his bed, wide awake.

Not because his injuries had been bothering him (well, that too), but because he was aching to talk to a certain green-eyed alchemist.

He thought the Rashville incident was bad, when Maka refused to talk to him and would not look him in the eye, but this was worse. She didn't even bother to hide that she was actively avoiding him. Hell, he wasn't even sure she'd been acknowledging his presence at all.

Rashville had been uncomfortable, but this? This _hurt._

He wanted to see her green eyes, hear her voice, hold her hands. He wanted to make sure she was really okay. He wanted to make sure he was still allowed to be by her side.

Because after many hours in silence to think, he had found the reason of her new behavior.

_'__Can't be helped. You let her see a demon.'_

He swore at his own brain, eternally cursing his Blood's manifestation. It was the bastard's fucking fault in the first place!

Yes, he had lost his control over his blood. He had transformed into a mindless killing machine right in front of her eyes. What was different from him and those immortals? In the end, he was the same; a bloodthirsty monster. He had given in to the madness, unleashing every urge to kill.

Fuck. He had _enjoyed_ it.

Soul brought his arm to cover his eyes. It had been so long since he flipped his switch like that. It must have been terrifying to watch.

On top of that, he had transformed into _a fucking scythe. _As if he wasn't enough of a freak already.

What the hell was that anyway?

He grumbled to his pillow, shifting to his side while trying not to jostle his still tender ribs too much. God, sleep was impossible.

* * *

Next morning gave a new hope for Soul. Maybe, if he explained himself carefully and properly apologized, she'd listen.

He limped to Maka's kitchen, immediately brightening when he found her silently brewing coffee. She was always in a good mood—or at least better—when she had coffee in her hands. She gave no sign of noticing him, adding a spoonful of sugar into her mug with a blank look on her face. Maybe she closed her weird perception skill; she looked dead tired (that skill took quite a handful of energy if used continuously, something Soul learned the hard way). God, she looked even more terrible from up close.

"Hey."

Her spoon clinked as she flinched, immediately pulling herself back and taking a step away from his voice.

A block of ice was plunged into Soul's gut.

He suddenly wanted to run as far away as possible. But to his surprise, it was her who did. Maka grabbed her mug and cantered out of the kitchen, leaving his still frozen body to stare at the coffee she had spilled in her haste. Fuck. This was worse than he thought.

_'__She's afraid of you.'_

Soul couldn't even curse at his Demon. How could he, when what the little bastard said was true?

* * *

Maka crouched behind her bedroom door, still cradling her lukewarm coffee.

She couldn't face him.

Not after dismissing his story a thousand times. Not after selfishly accusing him of fabricating truths and throwing slanders. Not after convincing herself that he was wrong for so long.

Everything swirled in a confusing mix of embarrassment, anger, sorrow, aggravation, fright, and shame.

She didn't know how to face him. She didn't even know if she wanted to face him.

How did she act around him before? How did she talk to him again?

She stared at a photo on the wall; at the smile of a woman she loved her entire life. Suddenly she didn't know if the woman's smile was warm or cold. Suddenly she remembered that her Mama was a war veteran. Suddenly she believed other veterans' words a little more; that Mama was ruthless and cold on the front lines. Suddenly she didn't know her anymore.

Maka Albarn had been wrong. Kamiko Albarn wasn't a saint; she was the Angel of Death.

What should she do? How could she deal with this? How could she ever continue her work? How—

A rapid series of knocks startled her. Hastily wiping her tears, she stood and blocked the door, afraid of facing him again so soon.

"Maka!"

She didn't know whether she was relieved or upset that it was Black Star's voice. Apparently her mind was in such disarray that it didn't even occur to her to activate her perception to check. She set down her mug on her nightstand and cracked the door open, revealing a brightly grinning Black Star, skin covered in sweat from his early morning practice.

"What?"

Her brother blinked at her irritated tone. "What a fiery spirit so early in the morning." She scoffed at his snickers. "For pomegranate's sake, you look like your beloved pet's been murdered in cold blood. Take a quick shower and come over. Tsu's cooking those Xingese noodles you like so much. Drag that travel buddy of yours along as well."

Her flinch didn't go unnoticed by Black Star. Curse his ability to be far too observant at annoying times. He turned his head curiously in the direction of the kitchen. "What did your boyfriend do this time?"

"He's not my—" Maka sighed, "Never mind. Just leave me alone, would you? I actually have work to do. I'll go get my share later."

"Maka." Dammit. He used his serious tone. "Something happened in Briggs, right?"

Maka refused to squirm. "Not really."

"I saw you guys get off the car last night. He's injured. Bad." Black Star frowned, "I'm not stupid, Maka."

"That's debatable."

"Would you just answer, goddammit!"

She sighed again, injecting just the right amount of frustration into her voice, "Nothing special, Black Star. It's just that we had a little mishap and… Soul ended up injured because he was protecting me."

It wasn't a lie, but wasn't the entire story either. It would do, though; anyone who knew Maka Albarn would know how repulsed she was to receive any help from the male half of society. It might've been the only reason why Black Star bought her half-truth and didn't question her further, though he still looked a little doubtful. Well, she was an amazing actress when she wanted to be.

"We're both okay, Black Star. I promise."

Promising a complete lie. How uncharacteristic of her.

* * *

The drive to Gallows Hill was unnervingly silent, making Liz's discomfort rise the closer they got to Albarn residence.

Everyone was quiet after hearing Kilik's report on Maka's Briggs debacle. Well, everyone except Patty, who was fogging the car's window and scribbling shapes on it while humming a children's song. Liz was practically vibrating with worry as she pulled the car into Maka's yard. Sometimes she envied her sister's ability to stay cheerful and positive at all times.

Kilik had said that Evans had mentioned something about immortals; a ridiculous concept to even think about. Except that she was Kid Morton's most trusted person, and he had told her that he witnessed his father's assassin walking away after being shot through the head, something Kid himself wasn't sure was memory or hallucination.

Liz suppressed a shudder. Fuck. She hated these supernatural things the most.

Harv and Ford quickly stepped out of the backseat, followed by a cheerful Patty, but Kid stayed still. Liz stole a glance at her Colonel. He had his usual calm façade in place, but she was familiar enough with him to notice his tense jaw and his rigid knuckles.

"Sir?"

Her voice seemed to snap him out of whatever he'd been thinking. "Let's go, Lieutenant."

Pursing her lips, Liz followed him out of the car. A loud growl of a motorcycle announced Kilik's arrival. (Liz gave Kilik's ride a dark look. She had secretly admired the thing, but for heaven's sake Kid wouldn't let her have one.)

They were greeted by the grumpy Ishvalan boy. Liz clicked her tongue at the sight of him. She still didn't like the rude man, a feeling that was clearly mutual, given the way Evans glared at her team like they had killed him in another life. Liz certainly wouldn't admit that his heroic act of protecting Maka and even getting gravely injured in the process had impressed her.

"Oooooh, so you're Soul?! Finally, I get to see Maka's hubby!" chirped Patty. Evans raised a brow, clearly confused with the word. Dumb guy. "You're right, Sissy, he looks mean!" she giggled, poking the boy's arm, which he answered with a swat.

"Where's Maka?" Kid said, ignoring Patty's snickers.

"Book nest," Evans grumbled, jerking his head upstairs. Kid nodded, gesturing to his team to follow him. Liz was last, looking over her shoulder to see the Ishvalan boy retreating further into the house instead of following them.

That was unusual. Whenever she met him, he had always been glued to Maka's hip.

Scoffing, she ignored the guy to follow her colonel.

* * *

Oscar was a little surprised to see it was Evans who opened the door.

It had only been two days since he had last seen the Ishvalan man, and he couldn't walk without being supported by Kilik then. Now he was standing in front of them, fully healed. Well, not fully, Oscar guessed; he still subtly favored his right foot and moved his torso cautiously when the younger Thompson poked his arm, and his bandages were slightly visible under his shirt's collar. So it was either Evans had an outrageous tolerance for pain or that underground doctor's words about his impossible healing rate were really true.

The latter was more likely, considering Evans was connected to at least four life-support machines the first time Oscar and Miss Kim left him in the doctor's care, but was already healed enough to go back to Gallows Hill a week after. Still, it was a little unnerving to see the man who had been half-dead ten days ago standing so casually as if he only had a bruised rib.

"Seems like what the Doctor told us was true, eh, Ford?" Kilik leaned over to whisper to him as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"Most likely," Oscar replied. "You don't usually see a man come back to life after being stabbed through the chest in just ten days."

"It's both creepy and cool, though," Kilik remarked.

"There's also the possibility that the doctor used a philosopher's stone or something," Harvar jumped in.

"Nah, I already checked," Kilik disagreed. "The doctor's not an alchemist. He's Jackie's old acquaintance, she's 100% sure of that. Even if he was, why would he waste a precious fifth element like that on a stranger?"

Neither of them replied that statement, because they had arrived and Colonel Morton was opening the library door. They found Albarn reading a book, or trying to read. Oscar noticed that the Ishvalan man hadn't followed them to the library. Figured. He hadn't seen Albarn and Evans exchange words since he had found them among the rubble.

"Kid!" Albarn hastily closed her book, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"Maka." Colonel took a seat across her, and his team positioned themselves quietly around them. "How are you?"

"…Fine," she smiled. Oscar almost scoffed at her pathetic attempt at lying.

"We all know you're not, Maka," Colonel sighed. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Why do you ask, then?" she snapped. "Forget about me, you're here for the full report, right?"

Colonel Morton grimaced, but he nodded anyway. That was their main reason for visiting her. Albarn had refused to give the details about the incident in Baschool, saying that she would explain when they got back, and Evans couldn't provide any decent reports due to his hostility towards the blue uniform and his terrible communication skills.

Albarn began to speak about how they tracked the hidden lab to the ghost town, how they found a nasty tunnel, how they arrived at the odd dance hall, and lastly how they were attacked by two immortals.

Something was bugging Oscar, though. She wasn't telling the whole story; like what she had done when she first met Evans. The whole team was gobsmacked when they found out Evans could turn his body into metal blades (though it was rather interesting to see the elder Thompson almost choking their colonel to death for keeping it from them). Could it be that she was hiding something about Evans again?

"Did the immortals use blades or something?" Oscar fished, remembering many wide cuts and clean slices he found among the rubble, "Or was it Evans's doing?"

"It's… Soul's," Albarn answered a second too long.

"Huh, nice blade he has, to be able to cut through concrete that cleanly."

Colonel finally caught his game, frowning to Albarn, demanding, "Maka…!"

Albarn sent Oscar a dark look, which he received with a smug grin. "I told you, it's Soul's! It's just that he had… a different shape."

"Such as?" Kilik urged, "He had implied that sort of thing, but he wouldn't tell me what!"

"And you didn't tell us why?" Liz snapped.

Kilik offered a sheepish chuckle. "I just remembered?"

"You—"

"Liz," Colonel Morton interrupted. Liz wanted to protest, but stopped, pouting to the colonel instead. "Maka, continue."

Albarn shifted in her seat, a nervous move that was so unlike the Grigori Alchemist. One would even say that she was _squirming_.

"I… accidentally touched him mid-transmutation," she confessed.

"What? Were you both okay? Did a rebound happen or—" Colonel frantically searched her body for abnormalities. Kilik did the same, his eyes scanning her for any unwanted alchemical texture.

Colonel and Kilik's worries were understandable. Even if he wasn't an alchemist, Oscar knew enough about alchemical theory to guess what would happen when a transmutation went wrong, especially when it involved humans. Transmuting living beings was a lot riskier and dangerous than with inanimate objects, because their bodies contained at least 26 different chemical elements in various amounts. Many alchemists ended up with horrible rebounds just for trying to transmute animals.

"We're both okay!" Albarn hastily replied. She added after squirming a little more, "Well, I _was_. Soul was… Soul turned into a scythe."

"A _what_?!" It was Liz who squawked.

"Like the farming tool?" her younger sister chimed in curiously, as if not affected by everyone's slack-jawed expressions in the slightest.

But it was Patricia's light comment that made Albarn chuckle and continue her ridiculous story. "Yes, Patty, like the farming tool. It was so big and heavy too."

"Wait, Maka! You're saying that Evans, _a human_, can transform into _a scythe?! A completely inanimate object?!_" Colonel finally found his voice.

"I have told you that he's a human weapon, right?"

"Yeah, that idea is still ridiculous and impossible, but at least he only transformed _partially_!" Colonel continued his protests, snatching Oscar's own words. "At least he maintained his brain and internal organs!"

"I don't know, Kid!" Albarn sighed, "And looks like Soul doesn't, either. He was just as shocked as me when it happened."

"I knew that guy was weird and creepy, but not to this extent," Liz muttered, bringing her hand to cover her eyes.

"Yeah, tell me about it…" Albarn scoffed, glancing away from them.

Everyone was quiet, didn't know what to say after hearing the ridiculous information. Even Oscar couldn't say anything to make all of these less absurd. Hundreds of alchemy theories he'd read were a waste. What even was logic?

"What's that? It's pretty!" Patricia distracted everyone by poking a small box on Albarn's desk. A music box?

"Oh," Albarn winced, as if just realizing the box's presence, or more likely, had been intentionally ignoring its existence the whole time. "I found this inside the piano. I… haven't tried examining it," Albarn said, raising a small intricate box for everyone to see.

Oscar was surprised to hear this. Well, who wouldn't be? Maka Albarn keeping herself from tearing a new alchemical finding apart to study it to death? Unheard of.

"Why?" he inquired. "It's a multiple-coded record hidden in the middle of military ground! No doubt it's an important finding. Very unlike you, Albarn."

"A lot has happened, Ford. Forgive me if my mind is still too busy processing everything!"

"Oh, please!" Oscar rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "We all know you're just drowning your cowardly ass in pathetic self-pity."

"What did you just say?!" Albarn's voice raised, accompanied by the Thompsons' hisses. Oscar considered himself a good man and often meant well, but he wasn't considerate enough to stop his mouth from spewing insensitive words, apparently, especially not when he had had enough of someone's shit. An inevitable effect of being paired with Harvar, no doubt.

"Let me say it again; you're a pitiful coward," he continued without hesitation, not letting her snap a comeback, "You're too afraid to admit that it was your mother who forged Evans into a human weapon."

Albarn's jaw drop was so satisfying to watch.

"What? You think I wasn't going to realize it?" Oscar scoffed. "I may not be an alchemist, but I'm not an idiot, _Miss Grigori_."

She flinched.

"We all know he has the weird ability to transmute his body into steel. We also know Mrs. Albarn was a genius in biological alchemy. Evans admitted that he has a history with Mrs. Albarn, and his transmutation produces green light, a trait that was unique only to your mother and you. Combine that with the things you just told us and your current mopey state, it's ridiculously clear."

Even Maka Albarn couldn't say anything when presented with the truth she had worked so hard to deny.

"Now you're lashing out all your frustration onto him. Pitiful."

"What do you know?!" She chose to lash out. "You'll never know the betrayal I felt! You don't carry her legacy! Hell, you're not even an alchemist!"

Oh. So she wanted to go there, huh?

It was unspoken knowledge that Oscar was more than a little sore at his lack of alchemical gifts; a feeling that always worsened each time he was reminded of it. How fiendish of God to only give him the brain and passion but not the gift.

"Well, yeah, obviously," Oscar bit back, his tone a little sharper. Albarn flinched again, maybe realizing her insensitive words a second too late. "But I know I wouldn't mope around pitying myself if I found a way to hold the deeper truth right in my hands!"

"Even if his words were harsh, Ford's right, Maka," the Colonel supported his statement, ignoring Liz's death glare. "We aren't seeing the whole picture here. And you have a way to expand our vision, even a little. I have told you to keep believing in your mother, right? We still don't know how, when, or why she did this. But Maka, you know her. You have been sensing her soul for years, right? And you had believed that she was a good person for all this time, so you have to keep believing. You have to be stronger in order to search for the bigger truth."

Well, he'd said the same thing, basically, only that Colonel Morton had the gentlest mouth among them. Albarn nodded reluctantly.

"Great, now about Evans's ability, I think we have to discuss it a little further."

* * *

Soul scowled at a framed photo in his hands, inspecting a much younger Maka getting crushed into little Black Star's chest, Tsubaki laughing beside them.

No, he was not scowling because he didn't like the photo. Soul exhaled, flipping the frame to find _'Maka, Black__Star and Tsu'_ scrawled in red ink on the back. It was Maka's happy memory. There was no way he didn't like it.

No, it was the guests inside Maka's library.

When Kilik said he would go straight to Gallows Hill after reporting back to Eastern HQ, Soul didn't expect that he would take his entire team with him, as in, the Reaper Colonel's team.

With the way Maka was avoiding him, he chose to ignore his need to be on her side. That didn't mean he was okay with them going in and out as they pleased, however. Even if Maka deemed them trustworthy and he trusted her judgement, Soul was still reluctant to get closer.

Nothing personal, just an old bias, of course. Only old bias that had morphed into strong animosity.

"Evans."

He turned to find the Reaper Colonel and his entire team staring at him with serious expressions, even the younger Thompson sister. He was surprised to see Maka trailing behind them, but he showed nothing except for the faint widening of his eyes.

"Maka had told us about your… interesting full-body transformation," the colonel started. Soul's tongue clicked without him knowing. Why did she tell them about that?

"So?"

"I got the impression that you were not aware of this ability yourself," the colonel continued, making Soul's scowl deeper. "I was wondering if perhaps we could try to trigger it as well."

The fuck?!

"No fucking way."

"We have to get to the bottom of this, if you're intending to continue being Maka's… travel companion." The colonel's eyes were pinned on him, but Soul's own was on Maka. She was flinching when addressed, visibly uncomfortable. "We have to know exactly what this ability of yours is. What can trigger it, how it works. For your own safety, partly. And Maka's. It will be dangerous if it turns out that you're gonna change into a lump of metal every time you're touched by a transmutation circle."

"Huh?!" Soul's attention snapped back to the Reaper Colonel. Did this guy just— "Are you implying that I could be a hindrance for her?! That I'll become _useless_ every time I'm touched by an alchemist?!"

"If you don't agree, then show us," the colonel retorted flatly. "We have three different alchemists with different circles here."

Soul held back from gritting his teeth. As much as he loathed being touched by military soldiers, the colonel was right. They had to get to the bottom of this. It would be ridiculous if Maka was in a pinch and he couldn't do anything because he was turned into inanimate steel. He didn't even know what he'd do if he hadn't been in Maka's hands at that time. He _was_ useless without a wielder.

Besides, them doing this could be a sign that Maka still wanted him around. Somehow.

"…Alright."

The Reaper Colonel nodded, turning to Maka. "Then… Maka—?"

"We already know that my circle works."

Ah. No hesitation in the slightest. It would be a lie if he said his heart wasn't aching at her instant rejection.

_'__She's that disgusted, huh?'_

Oh, like he needed the Demon's cheerful comments right now. Luckily for him, Kilik decided to break his rapidly darkening thoughts by offering his hand, smile sincere and uplifting. "Then maybe I can go first?"

Soul's eyes left Maka reluctantly, taking the major's left hand. Electricity sparked as Kilik's thunder circle activated, but nothing happened. Soul was still standing in his spot, fully human.

"Huh?" Kilik tilted his head. "Maybe both?" He raised his other automail. Soul rolled his eyes, taking it.

The same process happened, only that a spark of fire now accompanied the electricity. Still nothing.

"Guess I can't, then," Kilik hummed thoughtfully, taking his steel arms back and scrutinizing the circles on them curiously.

"Then it's my turn." Reaper Colonel stepped forward, all business. Soul felt his Demon trembling slightly, whether it was from fear or excitement he didn't really know. Must be because of the guy's alchemy. It affected souls, not only physical matter, after all. He gave the colonel a questioning look when he offered both his hands. Ah, yes. This guy had a weird thing with symmetry and balance. "Both hands, please."

Soul complied quickly, refraining from his instinct to pull himself away. While Maka's alchemy felt like a flowing river, Kilik's was like a lightning bolt. But the Reaper's alchemy felt… weird. Almost unpleasant. It was rigid, dark, and chilling, like goosebumps. Soul was awfully aware that a slightly different arrangement of that transmutation could unbind his soul from his body.

But like what had happened with Kilik, Soul was still standing there in his normal human form. Or as normal as his freaky body could be.

The colonel stepped back with the same calculating expression Kilik had. "What do you think, Kilik?"

"Yeah, I think it's like… 75% safe to assume he's not going to turn into a butter knife whenever he's touched by an alchemy circle," Kilik replied, smirking at Soul's scowl.

"I wonder if only alkahestry can trigger it?" Kid muttered to himself.

"Possibly," the bald one, Forg or Fred, Soul wasn't sure, agreed. "Won't be weird if it's true. The one who made him was an alkahestrist, after all."

Fuck. They knew about that too?

The soldiers discussed the topic further, but Soul's mind was wandering to the only person in the room who mattered. She was sitting beside the younger Thompson, draped in her friend's arms. If Soul hadn't been staring at her so intently, he wouldn't have noticed her occasional glances and the slight tremble of her lips, as if she was trying so hard but failing to not give him any attention.

It was depressing to think that she still ignored him even when sensing his soul's silent pleas.

Was she really afraid of him?

How could he fix this?

Normally, if she was anyone else, he wouldn't give a single damn. If other people were afraid of him, he would just walk away. He would just let them go. But she was Maka. He refused to walk away. He absolutely refused to let her go. Hell, he wasn't sure if he was physically capable of doing that. At least not before he explained himself first. Not before they had a proper talk and sorted things out.

He just wanted to see her smile at him again.

"Kilik, I'm stationing you here. At least until we can get more intel on our new enemies." Reaper Colonel's command startled Soul out of his inner agony. "There's still the problem with the immortals' behavior. We don't really know if they were really planning to take Maka away, and if they did, we don't know when or where they're going to attack next."

Maka protested right away, "Kid, I don't need to be protected!"

As much as he preferred Maka to be safer, Soul couldn't help but agree. Not because he had noble belief like her being a strong woman who didn't need no man or anything like that, but because the selfish and greedy part of him hated to let others take _his_ place.

He was chosen by her mother to protect her. It was his job. _His._

_'__As if she would allow you to protect her right now.'_

What wouldn't he give to stab his own Demon.

_'__Don't be mad because I speak the truth, boy.'_

"Maka, they can't die," Reaper Colonel chided. "There's no way you'll survive a fight with two of them without a scratch. There's no telling if they were moving independently or under another's command. For all we know, they could be a part of a larger group full of immortals. I can't leave you here without back-up!"

"I'm here too, y'know?" Soul made himself known, his voice coming out a lot harsher than he had intended. Maka looked like she wanted to yell at him for his unnecessary interjection, but she stopped herself and threw her gaze away, much to Soul's dismay. He'd rather be yelled at than be ignored.

"You're injured, Evans," the colonel dictated, as if the sentence could rest his case. Bastard.

"Th-there's still the Barrett—"

"They're civilians, Maka," Reaper interrupted Maka. "No matter how capable the entire Barrett family is; I can't ask civilians to protect my subordinate. And Maka… Black Star does have his own family to protect now," he added, voice softening near the end.

Maka opened her mouth to argue further, but closed it again, begrudgingly agreeing.

If there was something Soul had learnt after being with her for months, it was that, deep down, Maka Albarn was terribly kind. She would never wish for other people to neglect their own life and responsibilities just for her own benefit. She refused to endanger others just to feel a little safer. Not even her own family. Not even _him_.

Was there a way to tell her that he didn't mind doing just that? Well, without admitting that he was already doing it in the first place.

Soul was still standing in his spot as the Reaper Colonel herded his team back to Eastern HQ. He just watched in silence as the Gunslinger Sisters hugged Maka goodbye. He stared morosely as she shut the front door and cantered past the living room to lock herself inside her library again. He still glared at the empty corridor where she had vanished into, until a clink sound was heard as an automail arm draped around his shoulder.

"What's with that scary face?" Soul turned to find Kilik giving him a playful smirk.

He swatted the steel arm away. "Not your business."

Kilik let out an exaggerated sigh. "If it's Maka you're worrying about, no, she's not mad at you or anything. Just give her time."

Soul unconsciously stepped back, perplexed. "Wh—how did—?"

"It's clear for every human and their dogs that you think it's your fault she's been upset and avoiding you. You look like she's gonna kick you out of the house at any given moment."

Soul went still. Was he that obvious?

"Maybe I wasn't her childhood friend like Kid or Black Star, but I do know her, Evans. This is what she does when she's upset. If she's avoiding you, then you're not the source of her anger. Frustration and confusion, maybe, but not anger. You'd be back in Death City by now if she was really mad at you."

That would be comforting if Soul's concern had been about her anger. Actually, he could endure her anger just fine, even her wrath, but it was her fear that terrified him the most. The thought of her flinching away from his touch and shutting him out because of fear was so much worse.

"Aw, cheer up, Evans!" Kilik punched his shoulder lightly, minding his still tender ribs. "You almost rival Harv with that kind of frown!"

Soul growled, intending to ignore the major and go back to his room, but Kilik quickly caught him before he could escape, dragging him to the front yard. "I know just the thing to distract your moping ass. I'll introduce you to my _baby_!"

* * *

Soul spent his days reading music books and being dragged around by Kilik to worship his motorcycle. It was a decent distraction, but not good enough to make him forget his current predicament.

It was almost three weeks since the Briggs debacle, and Maka hadn't spoken to him even once.

Kilik had advised to give her time, but until when did he propose he waited?

He had tried his best to approach her, but his Demon kindly reminded him that she was _afraid_ of him.

She hadn't kicked him out of her house yet, yeah, and she was still dealing with whatever it was that had upset her, sure, but nobody said she wouldn't throw him out in the end. Something told him that he would leave without protest if Maka really wanted him to, but Soul vehemently dismissed the thought. Instead of thinking when or why she would evict him, he would do his best to keep that from happening. If she was afraid of him, he would work his hardest to change that. He would earn her trust again.

Three weeks without talking to her brought things into perspective.

He was happy. Being with her made him happy. It was like being taken by Mrs. Kamiko to see the stars all over again. It made him forget his terrible past and the traumatizing experiments. Only that with Maka, he didn't have to run away and look over his shoulder all the time. She made him walk beside her and look forward.

Even with Mrs. Kamiko, he could still find the will to leave, if he'd really wanted. But it was different with Maka. He wouldn't leave. He _couldn't_ leave. He had forgotten how to live by himself. He had forgotten how he could endure his boring days in Death City. Just in three short months, she had taken away his ability to be alone.

He lamented the fact that there was no big brother he could blab his problems to. Huh. Wes would be surprised to learn that his socially retarded brother had become this attached to another human being.

Oh, fuck. As if missing a single person wasn't enough already.

Blair padded to him with a worried meow and sat on his lap, glancing at the closed library door. Soul set his book down, following the cat's line of vision. Maka hadn't come out of that book nest for two whole days. It was getting frustrating.

He missed her.

Had she even had a decent meal? No, he didn't think so. There were only books in that room.

"Do you think I should bring her something?" he asked the cat. God, had he been desperate enough for a decent conversation that he started talking to a cat? Maka must have rubbed off on him.

Blair answered him, regardless, and her soft meow solidified his idea to bring Maka something to eat. A quick inspection through Maka's kitchen yielded no ingredients to make a meal. Must have been Kilik, the bastard; his stomach was like a black hole. Soul grumbled, he had no option other than to go next door.

The Barrett house was usually empty during these hours. Black Star and his dad would be in the shop and Myra would still be working in the little town's only hospital. That would mean he wouldn't have to socialize that much, thank god. Not that he didn't like them, but faking a smile and exchanging pleasantries when he wasn't in a good mood was tiring. Sid and Myra were the type of people who always put their best smiles on, the kind of smile that would make Soul feel so guilty if he didn't respond in kind. Black Star... well, Black Star wore a mask around him.

Luckily, his deduction proved true when he entered through the back door. There was only Tsubaki, who was silently chopping carrots.

"Tsubaki?"

The Xingese woman turned at the sound of her name, surprised. "Oh, Soul! How can I help you?" She paused her chopping. Tsubaki was the only one in the Barrett family who Soul felt no need to fake a smile for. Her kind nature made her reluctant to pry into others' business, respectful of their privacy, even though she was so perceptive about the feelings of others, almost as if she had the same perception ability as Maka's.

Seeing the chopped vegetables and a loaf of bread on the table made Soul change his initial goal slightly. "Uhhh… could you teach me how to make sandwiches?"

Tsubaki would just give him her own cooking if he asked for food, but he wanted to do more. His first thought was sandwiches. That thing looked easy enough to whip up and definitely delicious enough.

Unfortunately, he wasn't that familiar with those fancy seasonings and sauces. He had survived for years living by himself, yes, but that didn't mean he was an expert cook. The best he could do was to throw meat into a fire or hang it above the smoke.

"Sure!" Tsubaki answered with a smile, leaving her carrots to stir the stew on the stove. "It's very simple. But if you're hungry, there's a leftover cinnamon roll from this morning."

He scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. "Ah, actually, it's for Maka."

Tsubaki's hands stopped for a few seconds, her expression lightening in understanding. "Oh! For Maka-chan?"

"Yep," Soul cleared his throat. "She didn't even come out of that book nest for food, so I'm—I think I'll make her something…"

The woman actually giggled, making him blush. He didn't even know why he was so embarrassed by the thought of making Maka food. He had done it the first night he met her, for god's sake.

"I was just thinking of bringing her something too, but okay, you can take the job." Still giggling, Tsubaki left the stove to lift a pan full of potatoes.

Feeling his ears warming, he took the weight from the pregnant woman. "I'll help."

"Aah, but Soul, you're still injured!"

"I'm all healed now," he hissed, placing the pan on the counter.

But Tsubaki scolded him. "It's not even two weeks since you've been back from North Province, Soul. There's no way you're already healed."

"I'm fine." Soul rolled his eyes. Three weeks were enough for a human to heal that kind of injury.

Right?

Apparently not, if Tsubaki's wondering eyes were any indication. No one ever made a comment on his healing rate. Was his body that weird?

Well, yeah. It was.

"Could it be…?" Tsubaki tilted her head to stare at his chest, her brows furrowed, but she shook her head and put her smile back on. "Just wait until I put the pie in the oven, then we could leave it to make the sandwich. I think we still have some turkey left. Maka-chan loves turkey sandwiches!"

Soul nodded, helping the woman despite her protests. He was peeling the potatoes when a thought crossed his mind.

"Tsubaki…?"

The Xingese woman hummed slightly, her hands skillfully flattening the pie dough.

"Why do you always call Maka like that?"

"Huh? Like what?"

"Maka… chan?" Soul's climbing tone turned it into a question.

"It's a term of endearment in eastern Xing," she began, laughing softly. "You see, Xing is an incredibly large imperium with over 50 different clans. Each of those clans has their own language and customs. My family and Maka-chan's mother were from the same clan. It's located in a secluded valley in north east Xing. Even among other clans, our local language and customs differ greatly from common Xingese," Tsubaki was babbling with obvious excitement. Her tone was much gentler than Maka's, but she certainly was as passionate about Xing customs as Maka was about alchemy. "…and because of that, we—oh, I'm sorry I talked too much!" she caught herself, her cheeks tinting pink. Soul waved her apologies off with a little smile.

He thought her explanation was done; he wasn't expecting her to suddenly stop her work and smile sadly. And he especially wasn't expecting her following words, "It was what Mrs. Kamiko used to call her."

Ah. So it was like that.

"I think the first time she openly cried was when I called her that name."

Tsubaki really was a kind woman.

"It was a week after Mrs. Kamiko's death. I just… couldn't bear to see her like that. If I didn't do that, I felt like Maka-chan was gonna crumble. She was so lifeless, not responding to any of us. She didn't even shed a tear at the funeral. As if her world stopped after hearing about her mother's death."

Ah. Grief sometimes froze people; a familiar story. Only that his doll-like state had lasted much longer. There was no one to snap you back to life if you mourned in Death City.

"You noticed that we often speak to each other in Xingese, right?" Soul nodded. Tsubaki resumed flattening the pie dough, her voice cracking a bit. "I… I wanted her to think that her memories with her mother were real; that Mrs. Kamiko's love was—is—still with her even if she isn't here anymore. I wanted her to know that she still had us, that she was still loved."

He understood. There was a reason why he used 'Soul' instead of his full name.

"You haven't meet Mr. Spirit yet, right?" Soul cut off his darkening thoughts in time to nod. The old man was still an unknown to him; Maka's face when she talked about her father made his brow furrow. Tsubaki chuckled wryly. "My other reason is because… well, Mr. Spirit took out his grief by drowning himself in other women's arms, intending to forget about his wife, completely—but not intentionally—ignoring his daughter."

Soul's anger slowly rose the more he processed Tsubaki's words. Intentionally or not, how could a parent—_family_—forget about their child in times like that? He was in no position to judge, having no parents to compare to, but he knew _Wes_ would never do that to him, and he would never do that to Wes. They would never ignore family.

"Thanks… for telling me, Tsubaki…" Soul whispered under his breath.

"Thank you for listening too, Soul." Tsubaki smiled again, this time more genuine and warm. "I had never told anyone about this except my husband."

Soul returned the smile, finally cracking something other than that toothache grin. Tsubaki put her finished pie into the oven and started to pull out the ingredients to make his sandwiches. Soul listened diligently, but his brain was still thinking about her words.

Should he start calling her 'Maka-chan' too?

Nah, with the current tension between them, he was sure she would kill him if he ever attempted to do that.

* * *

Inside Major General Albarn's office, Major Azusa Yumi was comparing two files.

"No doubt about it, Sir," Azusa said to her superior, fixing her glasses. "It was done by the same person who orchestrated the incident ten years ago. Possibly even the same as the one behind the coup against the late Führer Morton."

Major General Albarn whispered at the paper, eyes glinting with something akin to madness, "After ten long years. I can avenge you, Kamiko..."

Azusa shuddered at her superior's almost feral expression. The general was always fooling around and donned an idiotic mask, hiding his vengeful grief behind his womanizer persona. She was one of very few people who had the privilege to witness this side of the general.

Was it really a privilege?

"By the way, how is Maka doing?" Azusa said with the most casual voice she could muster, watching the general's expression slip into a cheerful smile at the mention of his daughter. "Sergeant Thompson mentioned that Maka discovered a new finding in Briggs."

"Oh, really? Well, I have to congratulate her, then! Maybe with a little father-daughter date? We haven't done that in the longest time!" General Albarn beamed. Inwardly, Azusa rolled her eyes. How could he forget the disaster their last 'date' had turned into?

"But… Briggs? Isn't that a bit unusual?" She raised a brow. She didn't remember the first Grigori Alchemist ever being stationed there.

"You're right," the general mirrored her wonder. "Well, I guess Kristopher knows something."

* * *

"Crap, I have to replace the inner tube."

Soul watched Kilik grumble to his motorcycle. Out of sheer boredom, Kilik had planned to teach Soul drive, and Soul had accepted, wishing to distract himself from a certain green-eyed girl. Unfortunately, the bike refused to cooperate, as showcased by this flat tire.

Kilik grinned sheepishly. "Soul, can you go to Black Star's workshop and borrow some tools? I'll ask Sid for a spare tube."

Huffing, Soul turned to the Barrett automail shop, telling himself it was only a simple task. He just had to ask for the tools and get back, no need for further conversation.

The automail engineer was tinkering with a prosthetic leg, occasionally lifting his muscle shirt to wipe his sweat.

"Hey, uh—Black Star," Soul cleared his throat to get the older man's attention. "Can I borrow some tools for replacing a bike's tire?"

As usual, without Maka's presence, Black Star made no sign of wanting to socialize, only nodding faintly and gesturing to a shelf before going back to his work. Soul shrugged. He didn't hate the silent treatment. If anything, he preferred it. But it didn't stop him from wondering why. From what Soul had seen, Black Star never kept such distance from any others. On the contrary, the man loved attention.

Had he unknowingly crossed the engineer or something?

Soul reached for the box Black Star had gestured to. As he heaved the box to a more comfortable position, its shiny surface reflected the automail engineer behind him.

It was then he caught sight of a star tattoo on the engineer's right shoulder.

Oh.

Soul had never seen him without sleeves, or rather, Black Star had never shown his bare arms. And Soul understood why.

Behind a certain photograph of Maka and her childhood friends, were their names written in red ink. And there was a star symbol in the guy's name.

'Black Star' was not just a nickname. It was his _full name_.

Well, shit.

"You're Star Clan."

Black Star turned at him in surprise, unintentionally giving him his full attention for the first time. Oh, shit. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

There was no soul in Amestris who didn't know about Star Clan; the clan that had a longer killing record in the Ishval War than the entire State Alchemist Department, all because they didn't really have a preference in which side they were killing. At first, they had been hired by a group of Ishvalans to fight the military, which they did splendidly, but they didn't stop at that. Cornered Amestrians started to hire them as well, and they responded in kind. Too kind. The assassin clan gutted hundreds—maybe thousands—of humans like fish, tainting the holy land of Ishvala with the blood of His children. If the Führer hadn't ordered the State Alchemists to wipe out the entire clan, the bloodshed would surely have spread throughout the entire East Province. Maybe further.

The Star Child furrowed his brows as his jaw clenched, challenging Soul. "Yeah. Got a problem with that?"

Soul warily stared at him, his voice dropping without him knowing. "No."

Black Star made a disbelieving _'tchah!'_

His face contorted into a sadistic smirk as he laughed with a terrifying mix of disgust and exasperation. "Just fucking say it! Just admit that my tattoo makes you _disgusted_! You want to kill me in the cruelest way imaginable as payment for your fucking family's lives, I'm sure!"

Soul didn't react to the outburst, just silently watched him spit all the venom out of his system.

"Yeah, I'm a Star Child! I'm a direct descendant of the strongest assassin clan that ever existed!" Black Star bellowed with sarcasm, but his tone transformed into anger as his volume rose. "You think I'm fucking proud to have blood ties with those lunatics?! There's no one more _disgusted_ than me at what they were doing! There's nothing I want more than to cut the ties I have with them!"

Soul stayed silent.

"But there's no way you're gonna fucking believe it, huh?!" Black Star continued to laugh maniacally. "Of course you wouldn't! There's no fucking way I can deny the fact that I'm just a part of a disgusting, blood-bathing clan! Ha! I even got the gift as well! The gift to be an assassin! To kill! I'm a Star Child by birth! By blood! A filthy murderer!"

"I never said that you're a murderer, Black Star."

His calm words froze Black Star completely. They stared at each other in silence, the tense atmosphere thickening, red eyes calm while green were full of anger. Finally, Black Star's expression dulled, morphing into a grimace. The anger in his eyes transformed into loathing. Soul was perceptive enough to know that those emotions were not aimed at him.

"Sorry, I just…" Black Star heaved out a breath, throwing away automail parts he had been death-gripping the entire time. "You're an Ishvalan."

"I am." Soul nodded, still with a straight face. "But I know you're not a bad guy."

The older man bulged his eyes at him in shock. "I'm a child of assassins, Evans. The assassins who massacred your tribe! For all I know, my parents might be the one who killed _yours_!"

"Perhaps. But who cares, anyway? They're not the one I'm facing right now."

Black Star threw him a skeptical look, unconsciously whispering, "_Are you an idiot…?_"

Soul snorted, "Maybe."

But Soul knew his judgement was right. He didn't need Maka's weird perception ability to tell that Black Star was a good guy. A _cool_ guy, even.

If Black Star was disgusted with his clan and really wanted to cut ties with them, he would adopt a new name and erase that tattoo off his arm. He would forge a new identity, burying his past. He would live in peace as Sid and Myranda Barrett's adoptive son without worrying about the hate he would receive whenever he introduced himself, or the condescending stares people threw him whenever he revealed his tattoo.

But here he was, still responding to that name and working his tattooed arm off for new automails to help people regain their former lives back. He wasn't only acknowledging his ancestry with his head held high, but also working so hard to prove that a Star Child could _help_ instead of harm.

That was why he was a _cool_ guy.

Mrs. Kamiko was right. The shape really doesn't matter. The only thing that's important is the soul.

"So, I got some spare time while Kilik replaces his tire. Maka said you're good in hand-to-hand combat?" Soul offered a lopsided smile, Black Star gaped slightly for a few seconds before returning the smirk.

"The bestest."

* * *

_What was with this guy?_

Black Star was bewildered. The guy who was currently sparring with him actually made him fight _seriously_.

He partly regretted his decision to keep his distance from Soul. Because of his prejudice (no, it was certainly not fear of the past he was feeling), he neglected his chance to properly observe the Ishvalan guy. He should know better than to let his blood blind him, seriously; Maka had actually _brought_ Soul home, there was certainly something about him.

Now he knew there was really something special with the guy.

Being acquainted with many high-ranking soldiers meant he was familiar with their fighting style. The way Soul moved… it was certainly like a soldier. And it wasn't like an ordinary soldier like Harvar or even Big Sis Marie either, but like an elite agent who had been trained for solo missions; like his adoptive dad.

Black Star bit back his sneer as Soul nearly grazed his cheek. He blocked the Ishvalan man's kick before motioning for them to stop.

"Think this is enough. You're still injured, right?" Black Star made a quick excuse. "Maka would be mad."

Soul snorted, "She wouldn't care."

Black Star frowned. "You uncooked macaroni, she'll kill me if I worsen your injuries!"

Soul chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Black Star raised a brow. Were they still fighting? He had been too busy in the past month, with six orders from Rush Valley. He hadn't checked on Maka again after their return from Briggs. It was unusual for Maka to be upset at Soul this long; the little alchemist was oddly attached to the Ishvalan man after all. Ah, fuck, he should be paying more attention.

After some more prompting, Soul dragged himself back to Maka's house. Black Star watched until Soul's back vanished behind the front door before darting towards Maka's back door. He changed his direction mid-sprint, catching Maka's figure on one of her library windows. With two quick leaps Black Star was already perching on the second floor balcony.

He jumped into the next window and yanked it open. He wasted no time storming over to the stunned girl.

"Who the fuck is he?!"

* * *

Blair was meowing again from the faraway table, tirelessly trying to get her owner's attention to the untouched plate of sandwiches beside her. Sadly, Maka preferred to find out if she really could photosynthesize.

Maka was staring outside the library window, at a certain Ishvalan boy who was sparring with her brother; the culprit behind the untouched sandwiches, also known as the source of her dilemma.

Despite her current poor treatment of him, Maka couldn't help but worry. There was no way Soul was already fully healed, supercharged healing or no. He shouldn't be out there doing a spar, let alone fighting against such a formidable opponent. Black Star wasn't known for holding back. Hell, even _she_ had never beat him.

Why was he sparring with Star anyway? She never got the impression that Soul liked her brother enough to initiate a conversation, never mind a friendly sparring.

At first Maka thought it was because Soul had miraculously deemed Black Star trustworthy enough to let himself relax, but then she remembered that it was physically impossible for any living being to simply ignore her brother.

Her reverie broke when the library window banged open, revealing an angry Black Star. Blair bolted to her feet and hissed at her brother, but Maka didn't get a chance to speak before Black Star stormed to her in long harsh strides.

"Who the fuck is he?"

Maka blinked in confusion. "Who's who?"

"Evans!" Black Star shouted. Crap. Maka prayed that his awfully loud voice wouldn't alert the boy in question. "_Who is he?!_"

"What do you mean who? I've told you that he's an Ishvalan I met at—"

"Cut the shit, Maka. The way he moves, it's like an elite military agent. 'Cept he can't be one, so who is he?" Black Star interjected, glowering. "Certainly that guy ain't a normal boy-toy you pick up along the road."

"How many times do I have to tell you he's not my—ugh, fine!" Maka groaned in exasperation. "He's just had good training."

"_Maka_—" her brother snarled, indicating he was not in a joking mood.

Maka shifted her eyes to the ground, mumbling begrudgingly, "He was trained to be a special soldier. Sort of."

She hated how well Black Star knew her, because he gave her a skeptical frown and folded his arms in front of his chest, clearly sensing that she still had so much to explain.

"This is part of why you've been avoiding him, right?" he coaxed with an uncharacteristically stern voice. Maka cursed inwardly. Of course he would know. "Start talking."

Refraining from sighing, Maka finally relented.

She didn't know when had she been herded to sit on a chair or when Black Star had perched on her desk. When she started talking, it poured out. She spoke about everything, every detail she remembered, knew, and had deduced about Soul and her mother, even things she had held back from Kid. It eventually digressed into her pent up emotions, about how lost she was, about how ashamed she felt, about how she couldn't look at Soul without being reminded of Mama's sin. And furthermore, about how frightened she was when Soul had almost died because he'd gone with her. About how he'd shielded her body from the collapsing building. About his disturbing cries.

Black Star was silent the entire time, only sucking a breath quietly and tensing his jaw in all the right times.

Ah, contrary to popular belief, he really _was_ a good listener.

She hated to find herself opening up to Black Star that easily.

"You don't look surprised."

Black Star shrugged, "Well, I am, it's just that… it's something Aunt Kami would do."

Her chair screeched as she shot up, banging the table. "What?!"

"Well, not the dissecting children part," Black Star continued, not affected by her seething anger in the slightest. "I mean the part where she eventually saved Soul, and arranged for you guys to meet, and the fact that she hid this from all of us."

Oh.

She hated to admit that he was right.

After a long silence, Black Star exhaled, shifting his position away from her. "It wasn't his fault, Maka," he muttered in a soft voice other people wouldn't think he was capable of producing. "He didn't ask to be turned into a weapon. Like how I didn't ask to be born a Star Child."

Her heart did one guilty backflip.

"See him for who he is, Maka, not by a mistake he didn't have any control over." He patted her head once, smiling a little sourly, and jumped out of the window.

Black Star had actually given her advice. Maybe there was gonna be a blizzard that night.

Maka grimaced. She knew. She didn't need to be reminded by everyone. She knew. She understood, dammit. But having Black Star say that doubled the effects. Her brother's soft tone made her guilt triple in size.

Maka hid her face in her knees. Blair, who was uncharacteristically silent the entire time, walked over to her and curled her tail around her legs. Maka cracked an eye open, afraid that it was watery.

"What should I do, Blair?"

A soft meow answered her. Maka chuckled sourly, "I can't just walk up to him and say sorry."

Her eyes flew to the untouched sandwiches.

He really tried so hard. And she hated him for that.

She hated finding herself tucked in bed in the morning despite having passed out in her library. She hated finding warm meals on the library's corner that Tsubaki never said she brought.

She hated how he didn't force a conversation. She hated how he respected her personal space, both physically and mentally. She hated how he was giving her time.

Oh, who was she kidding?

She missed him.

But she couldn't face him. She just couldn't.

* * *

"Soul."

He whipped his head so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. He didn't mind, though, because a voice he had missed so much had just called his name.

Maka was approaching him with a sullen face. Soul's heartbeat was raising anxiously with each step she took. It was either their long-awaited make up time or her final words to banish him from her life.

They stood awkwardly for a long minute. Or hour. None of them knew what to say or do, only opening their mouths every other second and failing at producing any words. It was at times like these that Soul really wished for decent conversational skills.

But like every other time, it was her who took the first step.

"You should go."

Ah, it was the latter.

"Maka, I—"

"You should go."

Dammit. It was worse to hear it the second time.

"Why?"

"Being with me—it's just—it's dangerous…"

But she didn't even look into his eyes. She was frowning, her arms were brought to hug herself, and she was mindful of their distance. It was dangerous, she said. Yeah. Having a human weapon with unstable blood as a companion wasn't the safest situation. Especially a human weapon who could turn into a creepy lump of metal.

Was that a sardonic laugh he heard inside his head?

But no. He wouldn't go down without a fight. He couldn't.

"Do you mean that?"

She was determined to keep her head down. "Yeah."

"Tell me the reason."

"I just said it was dangerous."

Soul's jaw tensed, but he soldiered on, asking for that one final confirmation. "We both know that is not your real reason."

"I just… I…" Maka gritted her teeth. "I don't want you to be here."

"Why?"

She hissed. Her temper made itself known again. "I just can't look at you without being reminded of Mama's sin! Your presence upsets me! There, I said it! So would you please just go away?!"

Ah. A different reason than what he had thought. It was no less painful, unfortunately. And he didn't know the solution for it. If she'd been afraid of him, he could change that, maybe it would take time, but he could. But what could he do if it was his very existence that was upsetting her?

His face didn't betray his inner turmoil in the slightest. Half of him was protesting, screaming that he _had_ promised to protect her, vow to her mother or not. But the other half was accepting the defeat. There was nothing more important than her happiness. He would go if she really wanted that.

_'__Sometimes, boy, I wonder if you're just a masochist.'_

"Look into my eyes, Maka," Soul heard himself speak with a calmness he didn't feel. "Say it. Do you want me to go?"

"Why did you always—" She stopped herself as she realized she was unintentionally lifting her eyes to meet his. Soul smiled despite himself. Even when there were tears threatening to pour from them, her eyes were mystifyingly beautiful.

Unknown to him, his hollow smile had broken Maka's final wall. Her lips trembled as she whispered, her voice thick, "Don't go."

He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I don't plan to."

Her dam finally broke. "I'm sorry…" Her quiet sobs slowly transformed into a strangled cry. "I'm so sorry, Soul…"

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I've been so unfair to you…" She sucked a breath. "I'm so egoistic…"

She processed to pour all of her inner demons, about how ill her thoughts about him had been, about her own shame, about how she had been treating him.

He noted with perplexity, she never once mentioned his cold-blooded rampage, nor his freaky transmutation into a literal weapon, as if she didn't care the slightest bit about them.

"And then I just selfishly told you to leave… Just because I don't want to face my own shame and Mama's mistake, I just—I'm so sorry, Soul…"

If it wouldn't worsen this little chance he'd gained, he would laugh. All her concerns seemed so trivial compared to his own fear.

"Even when I think of you like that, after I've been accusing you cruel things for so long… You just went and got your chest impaled to protect me… Do you have any idea how I feel about that?"

"What?" he chuckled slightly. "Just because of that?"

"Just because—" Maka shot him a mix of anger and disbelief. "It's serious for me, Soul!"

"Ah, no, I didn't mean—I just…" Soul chuckled again, a little wry, but when he continued, his face was clearly relieved. "I've been so scared that—that you're… that I…" He fidgeted, "I was—I am… scared…"

"Scared of what?"

He dropped his head, his hand nervously going to the back of his neck. When he whispered, his voice was heavy and a little broken. "I thought you were afraid of me."

"Why would I—" she quickly interjected, but stopped herself as her eyes slightly widened in understanding. "Soul…"

"I am a monster, Maka," he choked. "I have wicked blood that constantly have to keep under control or everything will go haywire."

"You're not a monster, Soul. You're not a weapon…" Maka softly said, quoting words she had said forever ago. "You're a person… and a good one…"

She hesitantly placed a hand over him, squeezing slightly. To think that they'd been berating themselves over such trivial matters.

Rashville should have been a clue. They both sucked in the communication department, apparently.

He was really glad he hadn't just left without a fight.

* * *

Footnote :

[1] Hemochromatosis: an iron overload disorder. The symptoms might include fatigue, abdominal pain, irregular heart rhythms and the skin to take a bronze color. If not treated, it can damage many internal organs like liver, heart and pancreas.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: But The Library is Where to Find The Truth

* * *

_[The Black Blood Project, Kamiko Albarn, 1911, town of Aszmamem, Ishval]_

_The most successful experiments as of July 1911 were Subject No. 563 and Subject No. 564, who had passed the five-months mark after injection. There is no data to determine their life expectancy, as both have been reported to have escaped from Aszmamem Lab._

* * *

Kid tapped his pen in a steady rhythm over a scribbled East City map, the other hand supporting his chin.

Kilik had reported about Maka's progress on the music box, which was running as smoothly as a frozen snail. It frustrated him too, because his instinct said that it had something to do with his own findings.

The colonel sighed. Maybe it was time to ask for some help from his Professor.

"Colonel Morton."

Kid was startled by the sudden appearance of his direct superior. It was rare to see him here. The man hadn't been known to enjoy office duties and supervising his underlings. Kid usually saw him shamelessly making phone calls to numerous ladies from his own office using the military line.

"Major General Albarn, Sir." Kid saluted. "What can I do for you?"

"Aaaah, no, I heard that you just got back from visiting my daughter! How is she?" the major general chirped happily, being his usual idiotic self whenever he talked about his daughter. Oh, of course. What else would it be?

"She's fine, Sir. Hard at work as usual," Kid pulled off his answer easily. Well, it wasn't a complete lie. She might not be completely fine, especially emotionally, but she was certainly hard at work, cracking down that little music box to find its deeper secrets.

"True. True. That's my wonderful baby girl for you!" Major General Albarn nodded proudly. "But what is this rumor I hear that she just got back from Briggs?"

Kid flinched. Where had he heard that?

"Kid!" Liz's voice echoed from the hall before she even came in sight, saving him from answering his superior's question. "I'm going to Gallows Hill tonight! I don't feel at ease leaving Maka alone with two boys when she's fighting with her boyfriend!" Kid gulped at the Major General's sudden silence. _Shit!_ He frantically tried to signal Liz to stop when she finally popped in, but it was too late.

"Tomorrow's my day off so you can't tell me—oh!" She stopped dead in her tracks, her irritated face suddenly paled into a nervous smile. "G-good afternoon, Major General."

The major general slit his eyes at the stammering lieutenant. "First Lieutenant Thompson, did I just hear the word _boyfriend _and _Maka_ spoken in the same sentence?"

Liz laughed nervously, "Ahahah, no, Sir! I was just joking!"

Alas, the damage had been done.

"_Two boys?_" he slowly turned to Kid, who was mentally berating Liz for carelessly blabbing about Maka's love life inside the headquarters. Even if Maka's overprotective father had locked himself inside his office too frequently to hear directly, other soldiers still could, and military gossip traveled faster than the local housewives' hot topic. The lieutenant just gave him a shaky laugh and an apologetic look before slowly backpedaling out of the room. The traitor.

"Uh… I stationed Major Rung at Gallows Hill to help her, Sir."

"Then who's the other one?"

"A—a new friend, Sir."

"Kristopher…" the older man sneered.

Kid refrained from gulping. The Major General used his first name, which meant he had to spill or end up having a fancy bullet hole between his eyebrows.

"All the details. Now!"

* * *

It should be noted that Soul had tried his best to maintain his cool in the presence of Spirit Albarn.

Alas, it was not an easy task.

"So you're _Soul_, huh?" The older man wrinkled his nose, disdainful and condescending, as if he was speaking about something stepped under his shoe.

Oh, now he understood why Maka always used _that tone_ when speaking about her father.

Soul was torn between kicking the guy's butt or snorting in front of his face. A truly difficult choice. Shame he couldn't do either because the Major General was still wearing his holster and Soul rather liked his head without any bullet holes.

"Yes, Sir."

"I don't like your tone," the Albarn patriarch scoffed, slitting his eyes. "Too rambunctious. Rude and cynical!"

_Wha—_he had just spoken two syllables!

"My Maka is the softest and gentlest angel to ever grace this earth. She needs someone worthy of her, someone who will treat her like the absolute princess she is! She's fragile, sweet, pure, like a baby bud of a white rose!" the father rhapsodised clamorously, every cell of his being lightening up with every word.

Soul couldn't help the incredulity, saying, "Uh… Are we talking about the same Maka?"

"Of course we are! If that's not how you depict her in your mind, then why are you here? I don't need any punk without class hanging around my precious wittle angel!" Spirit stuck out his nose, body language shifting into a cheap imitation of nobility as he strode out of the room.

Still mind-boggled by Spirit's appearance, Soul leaned into Black Star (who had wisely chosen to be mute for the past ten minutes) and whispered in disbelief, "_He_ married Mrs. Kamiko?!"

Black Star turned at him and replied without missing a beat, both tone and expression flat as a board: "I have that knowledge since dinosaurs walked on the planet and still experience the same shock every time I thought about it."

Huh.

* * *

Maka should've already learned to shut her mouth when facing the combined force of Thompson sisters and girl talks.

Her Papa got home that evening, bringing with him the Thompson Sisters, who announced that they would stay for a girl's night. Liz's grumble made Maka speculate that it was actually Papa who forced himself to come along with the sisters, not the other way around. (She'd overheard something about intimidation and domination assertance to a certain Ishvalan boy).

She sighed. She dearly hoped for Soul to be okay.

"Oh, how's the relationship with your hubby?" Patty chirped, hugging a pillow with a beaming smile, ignoring Maka's sputters. "Still fighting?"

Haughtily sticking out her nose, Liz interjected, "That's why I always say he's bad news! Maka needs someone gentler and—"

"He's not my—whatever, okay, you two! Just please, stop it!" Maka shoved a plushie to Liz's face, denying her blush. "Things are just very awkward between us, okay? I don't need you guys to make everything worse!"

"But from what I see, you've already made up, yes? You've been spending more time with him these days, and he seems so happy it's almost adorable," Tsubaki, who had been dragged into this dreadful pajama party by the younger Thompson, chimed in. She turned to Patty with a deceptively sweet smile. "He even makes her sandwiches!"

Maka loved Tsubaki, she really did, but at times like this she should've known that Tsu was a traitor.

"Aww! That is sooooo cute!" Patty's eyes sparkled. Tsu and Liz exchanged a knowing look, causing Maka to throw Liz another plushie. Even Blair had managed to make a teasing face, which irritated Maka to no end. How could she do that? She was a cat!

"And so? What happened, Maka?"

Maka groaned. "I just… Ugh..."

Tsu calmly sipped her chamomile tea while both sisters leaned forward with identical smirks on their faces. Apparently, mutual dislike between the older sister and the Ishvalan boy couldn't stop her from hunting new gossip. Actually, Maka was half convinced that all of the Lieutenant's hostility was only an act and she was plotting to set her and Soul up.

Oh, for the love of Nicolas Flamel.

"We've already made up." Maka finally relented, hugging a pillow and mumbling, "But I still feel so awkward around him. I… I just start to overthink everything, and just... couldn't say anything in the end."

"Why?" the younger sister fished with that deceitfully innocent face.

"I..." Maka sighed to her pillow, frustrated between not wanting to address her problem and not being able to voice her exact emotion to begin with.

She was not the type to talk about her feelings so easily, no matter how fierce the prompting was. Especially regarding _boys_. But eventually, the inner teenager in her twenty-years-old body overwhelmed her, craving the escapism this girl-talk could offer, greedily wanting to shed the prideful façade of Maka Albarn the Second Grigori Alchemist and just whine about her problems like a normal girl.

Ugh. This boy really made her act so out of character.

"I've been so mean to him, have said and thought nasty things about him. I—I don't know how to act without coming off as insensitive and ending up hurting him more, because—because of the things he'd been through. But he just… he casually falls back to his usual behavior, as if forgetting all the selfish things I did, and it makes me more awkward," she confessed, her voice dropping fainter by the words.

Liz and Patty, who had been in the room during the Roasted by That Goddamn Oscar Ford incident, grimaced. Maybe because they remembered all the details about Soul's creator and the source of Maka's dilemma. Tsubaki made a wry smile as well, not that Maka knew the Xingese woman was aware of Soul's real identity. Patty patted her back and let out soft coos, calming her as she would a wounded cat. Maka was losing count on how much she'd been sighing.

"Ugh, why can't I just ignore these stupid… these—these—whatever these weird things I feel are? Why am I like this? Why can't I just forget everything and just fall back to how things were? Why am I so jittery whenever he's near me?" Maka cursed at nothing. Well, maybe herself. "Even though we had shared a room numerous times," she added the last bit very very very quietly, still mumbled by her pillow.

But unfortunately, Tsu's and the Thompson Sisters' hearings were a little too otherworldly when it involved gossip. The previous gloomy air scattered away as three voices shrilled in unison, "YOU SHARED A—"

"Shut up!"

"Ooooh! Wittle Maka sharing a bed with a boy!"

"_So scandalous!_"

"I did not share a bed with him!"

And that was the moment Maka remembered that Soul's room was precisely right under their feet.

Just kill her already.

* * *

Maka frowned at the scribbled papers in front of her. The Thompsons had already gone back to Eastern HQ, earning the house a slightly more silence and her a calm heart. Thank god. But that didn't mean her concentration would suddenly rise up and deliver new inspiration to continue her project.

Once again, she took her magnifying glass to inspect the minuscular carvings that were covering the music box's surfaces. But after another ten minutes of intense scrutinizing, she slammed down the magnifying glass with a frustrated screech.

She had started to work diligently on deciphering the music box ever since the Roasted by That Goddamn Oscar Ford day, but things were never easy when it came to deciphering Mama's code, as always. She should've been able to connect everything smoothly, if it was a fully written document. But it was a music box. There were songs in it. She had nearly deciphered all of the carvings and pictures on that thing, had compiled it into some kind of an organized document, but really, it was useless, because all the key pieces for it to be readable were in the goddamn song.

She would never admit it under a death threat, but her musical knowledge was absolute garbage. Even a coconut was more likely to be musically literate than her.

There was also the option of asking other professionals for help, but she was Maka Albarn, and Maka Albarn didn't ask for help. Of course, her overenthusiasm and overinflated ego was not because of the Roasted by That Goddamn Oscar Ford incident. Definitely not. She just wanted to crack this puzzle with her own power and get to the bottom of this.

The pen in her hands twirled as she thought about her options. Actually, there was another easy way. Papa played the piano, and he would do anything for her. The only problem was that she preferred to be hanged by her toes in front of Black Star's workshop than to ask for musical lessons from her Papa.

And… the last time they talked—or yelled—to each other didn't exactly end that nicely.

Almost as if being summoned, Papa popped up between the bookshelves, beaming idiotically, appearing to have forgotten their last argument as he always did.

"What is my angel doing?"

Of course he was still here. One would think a Major General would be busier than common soldiers. But no, sadly not. Maka rolled her eyes and was immediately back to her scribbling. Her Papa didn't falter at her cold reaction, however, leaning over to inspect the music box.

"It is so pretty. Is this from one of Mama's laboratories too?"

Maka didn't say anything, only nodded and continued to scratch her pen against the paper. They just sat in silence for a while, or not so silent, because Papa opened the box and let its soft melody fill the air. After the song replayed for the second time, Maka's hand paused, her mind contemplating to ask a certain question.

"Hey, Papa…"

It was lost to Maka how he jerked a little as if suddenly slapped out of a trance, because her eyes had kept trained onto her papers. She just heard him humming cheerfully, as if answering a kindergartener, making her frown. But then again, her Papa always treated her like she was two instead of twenty.

"Did Mama…"

Maka stopped herself. No. As far as she knew, Mama had never spoken about alchemy to Papa. No need to involve him. He probably didn't know about Mama's illegal experiment, nor the truth about Soul.

Speaking of Soul…

"Papa, did you already hear it from Kid?"

"About what, sweetheart?"

"Uh… About Soul?"

Her Papa's vein popped comically at the mention of the Ishvalan boy's name. But when he spoke, his tone changed into an intense worry. "What should I have known? Maka, darling, don't tell me that—that he really is your b-b-B-BOYF—"

"NO!" her pitch jumped an octave, cheeks pink. Why did people always assume that?!

"Not that, Papa, but about his ability!" Maka grumbled to her table, her irritation caused her mouth to babble on its own. "Soul is a weapon. As in, he can turn himself into steel. He would certainly attract bad people, on top of being an Ishvalan, so Kid had protected Soul by forging him a new identity. I'm telling you because you are Kid's direct superior, so I want you to help protect Soul too. Please don't punish Kid for this, Papa. It was me who—Papa?"

Her Papa blinked a few times. The music box in his hands was still opened, tirelessly replaying the song.

"Sure, baby, if it's your wish, then Papa won't do anything!" he replied a touch too fast. "Then Papa should get going! Papa has a meeting with Brigadier General Gallad!"

Just like that, he placed the box back gently on the table and cantered out of the library. Maka tilted her head.

What was that?

* * *

Spirit stared at the road with a troubled mind, right hand nearly crushing the steering wheel while his left one gripped an old journal to death.

The old book contained his hand-scribbled music sheets from what felt like a millennia ago. From another era where his little family was whole and there were no dead wives and crying daughters in it. He managed to snatch the journal from a pile of music sheets on the top of the upright piano before storming back to his car; the very journal that contained the sheet music of the piece he'd heard inside the music box.

He composed that very piece together with Kamiko, right before she went back to Ishval and dove headfirst into that vile project.

_It was the music they made together_. Their last one.

Something in him strongly deduced that it was a subtle message from Kamiko for him, if he thought about her choice of piece and the fact that she had hidden it inside a heavily fortressed city. Kamiko knew _he_ had both the power and skill to find the box. It was just unfortunate that he'd been too focused on tracking down her killers than to look for her records like his daughter did.

Maybe she had slipped something in these music sheets. She'd been known to go to ridiculous lengths when it came to coding, after all.

Spirit's jaw tightened as he drove straight to the city of Patch. He had a mad alchemist to grill.

* * *

"Maka, I made you sandwiches! And salad!"

"O-oh, yeah, thank you, Soul." Maka jolted upright, hastily fixing her crumpled pigtails (an inescapable result of banging her head onto the table in frustration).

"What are you doing?"

Soul set the plate down and leaned over to peek at her work. Maka found herself pulling away when she noticed he'd unconsciously intruded her personal space. It was certainly not because she was embarrassed, no way, it was just that she had become a little too self-conscious since that day. They had made up, yes, but like what she had whined in the last pajama party, it didn't mean that she could fall back to her previous manner that effortlessly. Worse yet, now she found it harder to face him.

Fortunately but unknowingly to her, Soul was too happy with their newly-fixed relationship to notice her newfound embarrassment.

No. Not embarrassment. Awkwardness. Yes.

He was already back to his former self and treated her as if their almost-one-month-long conflict had never happened. Whenever he wasn't being abducted by Kilik or Black Star to devil knew where, he always accompanied her in the library, happily devouring Papa's old music books while listening to Papa's records, or just quietly watching her grumbling to the music box. He even cheerfully—and by cheerfully, she meant _shyly_ while grumbling all the time—made her sandwiches every day! (And they were tasty too, dammit.) His excuse was because Maka was horrible at taking care of herself when she had a project to work on. Something told her that was not the entire reason, but she tried to not dwell in it too much. She had enough problems.

The Ishvalan boy also resumed the almost forgotten skinship between them, which was freaking her out because it made her aware of how blasphemously close they'd been pre-Briggs-debacle. Not to mention it had always been _her_ who initiated it. How come she had never thought of this before? Surely someone was bound to notice those uncharacteristic behaviors from her, right?

But no. No one mentioned anything. Well, except Tsubaki, maybe. And Black Star. Only that they used knowing smirks and twinkling eyes instead of words. Oh. That was probably why she hadn't noticed. She diligently brushed off knowing smirks and twinkling eyes.

Now, when her brain was too busy freaking out over her own behavior, Soul gradually took over the initiation, starting from little things like brushing their hands or a light tug on her pigtails, to gentle pats on her head or tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The way he did that so innocently made her wonder if he was aware of how awkward he made her.

No. He probably wasn't.

It frustrated her. Wasn't it _her_ who was supposed to give him emotional support? Hadn't she grabbed his hand and even touched his chest so casually? Where did all of that go?

Why couldn't she just go back to the way she was before?

She really, really missed her blissful nonchalance.

"O-oh, just deciphering the music box, like usual." She collected her panicking thoughts in time, forcing her voice to stay normal.

Soul furrowed his brow, staring at the unchanged scribbles before them. "You're not making any progress, are you?"

She grumbled to the table, mumbling something about impossible codes and stupid musical languages. Yes. She had added almost nothing to the papers within the past week.

"You don't understand the piece?"

"Piece?"

"The song."

"Oh…" Maka said awkwardly, imitating his toothache grin. Curse her musical knowledge.

"Uh… I can help you turn it into a music sheet?" he offered, tone picking up to turn it into a question. "I already memorized the piece, shouldn't be that hard to write it down."

Well, he was right. She could work something out if it was something on paper rather than a series of sounds that made her awfully sleepy whenever she heard them. The only reason she hadn't done that was, of course, because of her pathetic musical knowle—_wait!_

"Y-you taught yourself how to read—and write—music?!"

A nod.

"Just by reading those books?"

Another nod.

"In just… what? Three months?!"

"One," he corrected, suddenly sounding shy.

Maka gaped at the slowly reddening boy. Her previous awkwardness was scattered by pure surprise. How come she'd never known of this? Well, she already knew that he'd been enjoying her music books and could play the piano a tiny bit, but still…

"Well, maybe I can't write something crazy like an original composition, obviously, but… if it's writing a piece down, I think… I can do it…" his mumbling was becoming fainter, hand flying to scratch the back of his neck.

She stared at him as if he had just stated he could turn rusted iron into gold. Actually, no. She was an alchemist. Turning rusted iron into gold was real easy. The thing he'd just proposed was far more amazing.

Soul, a boy with absolutely no prior knowledge about musical theory due to being raised in a lab and had isolated himself in a desert throughout his teenage years, had taught himself about it from scratch. _Without her knowing,_ if she might add. He must be some kind of a prodigy.

"You're amazing. Do you know that?"

Maka covered her mouth. Red was bleeding all over her.

"Did I just say that out loud?"

"...Well, yeah..." Soul chuckled, a light pink on the tip of his ears rapidly shifting to red.

How come a chuckle could sound that cute?

_Wait—what?_

Did she just think he was cute?

Maka groaned. She would find a shovel to dig her own grave first thing in the morning.

* * *

"Spirit, what a lovely surprise."

Frank N. Stein drawled with a tone that was a far cry from 'lovely.' Spirit ignored him, lifting his old journal instead.

"I need you to decipher this."

Frank lifted one of his eyebrows, his face still in that creepily stoic indifference, but Spirit knew his wife's former lab partner good enough to tell that he was intrigued. The man took the book from him, flipping its pages with a calculating hum.

"I thought you're not playing anymore, Spirit?"

"I'm not." Spirit tried to keep his tone even, doing his best to ignore the reason why he hadn't touched a piano key in twelve years. He had forgotten how irritating Frank's nonchalance was. "It possibly contains Kamiko's message. I need to know what it is, and you're the only one who actually knows how to decipher her records."

"You know Maka's better than me." Frank gave him a skeptical look.

Spirit refrained from wincing. "I… I don't want her to know."

"She's going to crack this one too if she gets her hands on it, you know?"

"She's musically illiterate."

And this time Frank did laugh. "Never have I thought that I would live to see the day I hear Spirit Albarn insulting his dear daughter."

Spirit growled, feeling heat reaching up his cheeks. "Just get to work, you lunatic!"

Still snickering, Frank turned to the depths of his lair, leaving Spirit to grumble silently behind him.

* * *

Oscar yelped as he accidentally knocked a bunch of books off the table.

Sighing, he adjusted his glasses as he picked the books from the floor, trying to look like a responsible officer instead of a man who was a second away from dream-land, even though there was no one other than himself in the dimly lit archive room. He really could use some coffee.

Refraining the urge to yawn, Oscar tidied the sprawled documents on the table and carefully clipped them inside their hiding place; a black folder disguised as a normal military document.

While Albarn moped around pitifully inside her damn private library, (no, he wasn't jealous of it, of course), Oscar had worked his ass off on the task given by Colonel Morton; looking up the strange disappearances and odd cold cases happened in East City within the past decade.

It was a meticulous task, because many of those cases had nearly no clue or closure. He and Colonel Morton agreed that all of them were done by one person. An alchemist, most likely. But for what, that was for him to find out.

Oscar had never admitted it out loud, but he was confident in his alchemy knowledge. He even guessed that his understanding of the principles was on par with Kilik, or even Albarn, who were State Alchemists. Even though a tiny voice he kept denying always deprecated God for not granting him the gift for alchemy, he was proud of his intelligence. It also helped that he had a great memory. His intellect was enough for Colonel Morton to appoint him as one of his closest underlings. He was always the first person the Colonel sought to exchange thoughts about alchemical problems inside the military. Not Kilik. Not Albarn. But him.

He remembered the first time the Colonel—who was still a Major at the time—recruited him into his team. It was way past the curfew, and Oscar was reading a book in the restricted section of the East City Library quietly. Some might even say _sneakily_. (And—okay, he was practically breaking into the room in a not-so-legal way, but the section was full of rare and prohibited alchemy books! He just _couldn't_ help it!)

He had thought that it was the end of his career when a superior walked towards him with an intimidating glare, asking what he was doing, but to Oscar's eternal surprise, the young Major didn't reprimand him, didn't even scold him, but instead engaged him in a deep—and very intriguing—discussion about alchemy. The young Major hadn't even asked what a non-alchemist was doing with an alchemy book, and instead praised Oscar's deep understanding of difficult alchemy principles, saying that it was one of the very few times the Major had enjoyed a deep alchemy discussion with someone. They had even breached over the topic of human transmutation; a thing that was strictly considered as a taboo within the—

Oscar sat up straight, his glasses slipped a little from the abruptness of his motion.

His mind quickly retreated back from his past memories and rapidly went to his current problem; to his sudden realization.

Not minding the books that were falling down again because of his haste, Oscar snatched the document Colonel Morton had left him and began scanning the cases' locations. He spreaded out an East City map and grabbed a pencil.

After a mind-numbing hour of precise verification and triple-checking, Oscar's eyes went wide.

_No way._

* * *

_[The Black Blood Project, Kamiko Albarn, 1911, town of Aszmamem, Ishval]_

_The primary goal of the project is to make advanced human soldiers that can turn into a living weapon, who will act as the military's secret assassins as well as infiltrators to penetrate enemy countries._

_The subject's soul balance is based on beings made from Philosopher's stone: the Homunculus [classified information]. While the physical ability of the subject is based on the Star Clan._

_The basic theory of this project is to inject Black Blood into physically-altered subjects and create an alchemical formula so that the subjects can transform into a self-wielding weapon at will._

_Black Blood itself is a human blood fused with liquid Philosopher's stone and sixteen other substances [classified information]. The sulfur concentration of the Black Blood is to be merged into a single unit of energy instead of divided into countless units, as in the case of a pure Philosopher's stone. Thus, creating a weaker, but more solidified and controlled source of energy._

_Subject's internal organs have to be altered considerably to be able to contain Black Blood, as a normal human's body will reject another sulfur concentration and begin to deconstruct. At least twenty alterations are necessary to create a standard vessel._

_It was designed so that the subjects can perform a passive alchemy and turn themselves into weapons, without the risk of them becoming too powerful by allowing them to perform an active transmutation._

_However, the project has not been perfected yet. The greatest flaw of this project is the high-concentration of iron inside the subject's bloodstream. While, with alchemical modifications, their body can delay the effect of hemochromatosis, the internal organ failure will begin eventually. Most of the subjects died in less than a month after injection._

_The alchemical energy generated by Black Blood can prolong the delay of hemochromatosis effect to a degree. But because Black Blood isn't as strong as an actual Philosopher's stone, its energy has a limit. Frequent use of weapon transmutation will drain the energy faster, thus shortening the subject's lifespan._

_The most successful experiments as of July 1911 are Subject No. 563 and Subject No. 564, who had passed the five months mark after injection. There is no data to determine their life expectancy, as both have been reported to have escaped from Aszmamem Lab._

* * *

The papers in Maka's hands trembled from her effort to keep her tears at bay.

Not that she succeeded. Her cheeks were completely wet.

She had expected to find classified information of whatever forbidden things Mama had done, yes, but not this… this explicit information about the Black Blood project. About what Soul had been through.

Imagining his body being cut open again and again made her heart feel like it was being mutilated by a rusted chainsaw. _Twenty alterations. At the bare minimum._

Gasping for air, she tortured her own mind by thinking about the Human Weapon's life expectancy. She didn't know how Soul had managed to survive all these years. She didn't even know if he was aware of his own condition. _If he did—_Maka struggled to breathe_—then he was willing to shorten his own lifespan by offering himself to be her bodyguard_.

_Stupid, ridiculous, self-sacrificing, suicidal, utterly idiotic lump of a weapon!_

Her grip on the papers loosened as she let out her first loud sob, palms trembling heavily as she tried and failed to contain her bawl.

How could he even contain all of this? All alone in that dead city?

Oh.

_Oh._

He must have witnessed his brother slowly dying too.

He must have to bury his brother's body all by himself.

Her sobs became louder and louder as her heart involuntarily relived both Soul's grief and her own. Both of her vivid memory of Mama returning home as a disfigured corpse in a tightly-nailed coffin and disturbing imagery of Soul crying beside a dying older version of himself mixed into one severe agony, tearing her soul apart. She was not aware of her own surroundings until a loud crash echoed and there were strong and frantic arms shaking her shoulders.

"—ka! Maka! Hey, what's wrong?!"

When she lifted her eyes to meet his red ones, her final thread was broken. She threw herself onto his chest, completely forgetting that it was still covered in bandages, clutching him for dear life as she ruined his shirt with her tears. He awkwardly patted her back, completely unsure of what to do.

"I'm so sorry, Soul! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Her apologies were blurred by her noisy sobs and irregular breathing.

"H-hey, why are you apologizing?" Soul tried to pry her off of him, maybe to look into her face, but she was too busy latching herself to him and hiding her tears on his chest. "Maka? C'mon, what happened?"

"I'm sorry… Soul, I'm so sorry…" She continued to blabber apologies, not entirely hearing him.

Above her head, completely missed by her distraught mind, his face contorted into a worried grimace, but shifted into a deep frown when his eye corner caught sight of what sprawled all over her desk. His hand tentatively flew to return her hug, his lips lowering to bury themselves in her hair.

* * *

Sixty miles from where Maka Albarn cried herself to sleep in the arms of a certain Ishvalan boy, Spirit Albarn stared intently at two rows of scribbles he and his old friend had succeeded to decipher out of the music sheet.

_'21 December 1924'_

_'42° 42.564′ N 42° 01.000′ W'_

Amazing what Kamiko could intersperse within a single piece.

It was what Frank could decipher within the music notes Spirit had broken down, without the addition of the actual documents carved all around the music box.

The piece itself served a double role: When paired with the music box, it would be the key to decipher the actual document, but alone, it was a hidden message. Ironically, Spirit had no idea of the former while his daughter completely missed the latter.

"A date, and a location," Frank muttered in his amused—yet detached—tone. The 'for what?' was left unspoken but intrigued both of their minds notwithstanding.

"I'll take it to Azusa to see what's with this place and date."

"You're not gonna tell Maka?"

Spirit pulled his lips into a thin line, fingers flying to hold his temple. "No. This is definitely too dangerous for her."

Frank let out a snort that was successfully ignored by Spirit.

Yeah, he absolutely could not endanger her further. It was appalling enough to see her flaunting a Silver Pocket Watch while wandering all around the strange places of Amestris. He would not drag her into this possible suicide mission. He could not bear it if the only precious thing left for him threw her life away to challenge death.

Spirit rushed out of Frank's lab before he could hear the last part of what Frank had been deciphering: about Homunculus.

He must hurry. He had a dead wife to avenge.

* * *

Pride opened her eyes with veiled distaste to see her foolish accomplice going on and on about what would he do if their plan succeeded.

No. Pride certainly did not consider the man an 'accomplice', not as much as a 'back-up' ingredient, but she was not going to tell him that. She was willing to lower her dignity and humor him for a little, even if it was only to prevent any unnecessary dramas. For now.

Nars Garnier, 38, although not with a State Certification, was a pretty accomplished alchemist. He was perfect as Pride's little puppet, because the man had a ridiculous amount of pride and unquenchable thirst for glory. It was a child's play for Pride to manipulate that ugly aspect of humans.

Oh, the irony.

Garnier continued his tirade of how the State had done him injustice, for not recognizing the genius that he was, for not giving him the glory and respect he deserved. Now, he taunted, Amestris would kneel before him.

Pride buried a chuckle and put on a benevolent smile. What a laughable desire. Pitiful. Just pitiful. It might be a_ right_ for her, but for him, that was just a puerile, ludicrous dream.

There was no being more fitting for the top than _her_. She didn't crave power, she didn't crave wealth. What she wanted—what was her right—was to be the highest being. The one who was entitled to hold all the universe's mysteries and secrets.

And the time where her dreams came true was approaching.

* * *

Maka opened her puffy eyes to see the reversed image of what happened in a certain broken church at Little Hook a lifetime ago.

She was half sitting on a chair, still inside her stuffy library, and half sleeping on someone's shoulder. Someone who was part of the reason she was crying in the first place.

"Morning." Soul gave her the slightest of grins.

It was then Maka became totally aware of how close their faces were and how he had an arm slung around her shoulder to keep her from falling off the chair. She let out a little shriek that was so reminiscent of Blair's screech and immediately pulled herself as far away from him as possible. There might have been a tinge of disappointment flashing on his eyes, but Maka was too flustered to pay attention.

"I don't bite," he said, voice coming as a tiny bit irritated, making her flush doubled.

She ignored him to look out of the window, noticing that the sky had indeed turned bright blue. Gulping, she tried to not think that she'd practically slept in his embrace all night. What would Aunt Myra say? What would _Mama_ say?

The latter brought her back from her puddle of embarrassment, straightening her backbone as she snapped her head at the papers that were still scattered all over the table, Soul's handwritten sheet music at the very top. He appeared to sense her change of mood and grimaced towards the paper as well, arranging himself to look more defensive and closed-off.

Maka sucked back a threatening sob and squared her shoulders to approach him. He flinched a bit, but wasn't pulling away, thankfully.

"Soul, do you—"

"Can we please not talk about this?" He was half hissing and half pleading. "Just… not right now."

Maka frowned. Her desire to protect his peace of mind clashed with her need to confront him; to talk him out of his own vow. Because it wasn't a matter of old promises and requests anymore, but about his very own survival. She would never let him protect her if it meant scraping away his very chance to live.

"Do you know about this? About the risk of using your ability?"

He squirmed.

"Soul!"

"I…" He took a glance at her fiery eyes swiftly before mumbling, "…yeah."

She wanted to punch him, to chop him to death with her thickest alchemical theory book, to kick the living shit out of him—whatever could deliver her anger the best. But no, she couldn't, not when part of the reason he did this was to protect her; to fulfill an extended plea of a dead woman.

The peeking bandage under his shirt doubled her guilt, contorting her face into an ugly wince. Just how much did this boy treat himself as a disposable thing? Why did he do all of this? Just for a selfish girl like her?

How could she make him understand that she wasn't worth it?

"Why?" She felt her lips quiver as she sank back onto the chair, tears threatening to pour when she couldn't figure out how to express her frustration. "Why didn't you tell me?"

His eyes abandoned hers, both hands balled into fists between his knees, voice dropping into a mumble. "I just don't think it's important. 'Ssa normal thing when you're a human weapon, so…"

"Of course it's important, you stupid boy!" she hissed. Her fist slammed his left chest—lightly or painfully, she didn't care. "When did I imply that I want to be protected by killing you slowly?! How could you do this?"

"I…" He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but in the end he was just grimacing. "This is what I was trained for. This is how I can protect you."

She heard the implied 'I don't know how to do it any other way.'

Apparently crying for a whole night hadn't dulled her pain yet, because she still felt her heart bursting with emotions, making her breath hitch. It frightened her how much she actually valued Soul's existence in her life. It was daunting to realize how easy he blended into her sphere, and how effortless it was for her to like him. How painful it was to just imagine him gone.

Her tears started to spill again, either out of anger, sadness, or frustration; Maka didn't know. Maybe all of them. Soul's eyes widened in surprise at the sight, fingers frantically trying to wipe her cheeks.

She caught his hand and held it tight on her face, eyes blazing. "Don't"—she pierced his eyes with the fiercest glare she could make—"ever transmute again. Not for me!"

"Maka—!"

"Just don't! Promise me!"

"How can I protect you if I—"

"I WANT TO PROTECT YOU TOO, IDIOT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" she yelled, the hand that was gripping his fingers started to tremble from the force of her outburst. Soul stopped dead at her words, completely caught off guard. Ignoring his lack of answer, she proceeded to shout her innermost desire, embarrassment and awkwardness be damned. "I DON'T WANT TO BE THE REASON YOU'RE DYING! IF ANYTHING, I WANT TO BE THE REASON YOU'RE ALIVE! I WANT TO _FIX_ YOU! I **_WILL_** SEARCH FOR A WAY TO FIX YOU! HELL, I WILL TRANSMUTE YOU MYSELF IF I HAVE TO!"

Panting, she let go of her hold, causing his hand to fall limply onto his knees. He was still totally stupefied, watching her as if she had just declared she would fight god for him. Which, in a way, was true.

Then it clicked.

Oh, so this was what Mama must've been feeling.

Mama had infiltrated the black project in the middle of its research. It was not her who started these experiments. She must have dove headfirst to find these children's bodies had already been altered beyond recognition.

This must've been the reason why she saved Soul and his brother in the first place; why she included alkahestry in the experiment. Because alkahestry was an art of healing. Maybe she'd thought she could save those children.

Maka wiped her eyes. Finally, she understood Mama again. It only took a hole in Soul's chest and several heartbreaks within the past six weeks for her to see the truth.

How awful.

"Maka…" Soul exhaled weakly, his tone lost and bewildered all at once. Maka was not aware, since she was busy glaring holes into her own knees to prevent any more tears from spilling, but Soul was bringing his hand to touch her, only to stop midway and take back his fist, face wrinkling to form a pained wince. "Does this mean I'm not allowed to follow you anymore?" His voice was small, but there was no way she would miss the slight pain in his words.

"Wh—I, what?" Maka blinked dumbly, processing his words a second too slow. "No, you—I mean—"

She struggled with her own words. If she was being honest, she would never want Soul to follow her in her journeys ever again. One awful memory was enough. Not to mention the danger of those homunculi, who might or might not be targeting her. But she knew enough that forbidding him would hurt him more than any physical injuries could. The past month was clue enough on how miserable he would be.

He was a truly compassionate person. A stupid, sensitive, absurd, delicate, reckless, caring, compassionate person.

Bursting emotions brought out the ironic realization to her. She had never realized before, but she was always doted on, sheltered, and babied by everyone around her. Papa, Tsubaki, Black Star, even Kid and the Thompsons; they acted as if they gave her freedom, but in reality she was being watched, allowed to go her desired way just because there was someone who would shield her. They said and acted as if she was a grown adult, but no, she was treated like a fragile newborn.

It wasn't a bad thing, really. They loved her, indeed, but it was just not right.

But she never felt those things when she was with Soul. Despite him being the only person who had verbally declared that he would protect her, he never caged her.

He was the first to treat her as a fully-capable person. The first to ever _depend_ on her. He looked at her like she was just _Maka_, a normal girl with a penchant for alchemy, not a fragile child with a delicate heart.

"You can go with me," she finally said, so softly she wasn't even sure she'd said it. There was a light breath coming from Soul's direction.

"But I'm not allowed to use my ability?"

"You can—you can use guns or other weapons; I know you're a good shot!" Maka hastily added, remembering his frightening accuracy when Liz 'playfully' tested his shooting skills. "I'm—I just… Just please don't transmute anymore, Soul… I-I can't—" She let out a slight sob, knowing full well that, despite his strange devotion towards her, she was not his master. She couldn't just give him orders or forbid him as she pleased. "I'm not worth it…"

When she lifted her face to see him, he was making that awful toothache grin again, not exactly agreeing with her.

"You are worth it, Maka…"

She blinked at his eyes. They were so red. So deep. She felt herself lost at how much emotion he put into those words. Stupidly devoted, idiotic, ridiculous boy.

"And you are worth it too, Soul," she whispered, casting away her embarrassment to make sure he knew and understood. Unlike her earlier fit, she brought her hand gently to cover his heart, feeling his heart pounding at the same rhythm as his double-soul. "You are worth living. Don't treat yourself as a disposable weapon ever again…"

His eyes sparked something unreadable, drowning her in their silent emotion.

At that moment, Maka declared within her heart:

_She would fix him._


End file.
